Safe Haven in the Chaos
by IdrilsSecret
Summary: While adjusting to life in Alexandria, Daryl finds himself in an unlikely friendship with Aaron, and they discover they have more in common than they originally thought. Aaron brings out a different side of Daryl, one that he has managed to keep buried for most of his life. He must face these discoveries and free himself from his past, as well as his ghosts.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 Real Men Don't Need No Fancy Glasses**

He had that dream again, the one where he watched Beth die before his eyes. Every time it felt like the nightmare lasted a little longer. Daryl was afraid that one day he wouldn't wake up from the dream. He'd end up stuck, forced to watch it over and over until something gave. Something always had to give, though, or a person would go insane. Why did she have to die? Of all the people in this lousy fucked up world, why did it have to be her? She was the only one who knew, the only one he'd ever felt safe telling. Maybe that was his mistake. He should have kept it to himself. Maybe she'd still be alive.

Daryl got up and went outside, standing on the front porch where he looked out over the town. Alexandria … what the hell were they doing here? This place was nothing more than a sense of false security. The longer they stayed here, the sooner things would turn to shit. It always did, as though Satan himself followed their every move just to take a fat dump on them whenever they got comfortable. This place was too perfect, he thought, but underneath it was nothing but bullshit. Daryl had felt safer and more at home in the jail than in this town. At least there, he knew where everyone was coming from. Here, he was sure the townspeople had ulterior motives. Deanna was too quick to give everyone 'jobs', and even quicker to put them in leadership roles. It was suspicious and he'd have none of it. Rick, Carol, Michonne … they fell right in like clockwork. As soon as the opportunity was presented to them, they took it. Then again, they liked being in the spotlight. They worked best there. Daryl liked to stay below the high beams, and that's just where he was now.

Not long after coming to Alexandria, he struck up an unlikely friendship with Aaron, the man they'd met while out on the road. Daryl, like with anyone else he didn't know, didn't trust him. He'd found out that Aaron had been watching their group for days, even as they fought off walkers. He never interfered, never helped. He'd just stood on the sidelines and watched them do what they needed to do to survive out in the open. When he'd first found out, Daryl was pissed, and he wanted to kick Aaron's ass. Later, as they talked, Daryl realized that it was Aaron's job to watch strangers, and determine whether or not they were worthy of Alexandria's attention. Turned out, they were.

Aaron lived with his partner, Eric, a slinky but good hearted guy. Daryl wasn't sure what Aaron saw in Eric at first. Aaron was strong, fearless, ready to jump out in front to risk his life. Eric, when they'd first met, was injured quickly. Daryl had seen the fear in his eyes. Someone like Eric never lasted long in this world. They were easy prey. They were the ones that got left behind while the others had a running chance at getting away. It must have been Aaron who'd kept them alive this long, and now in Alexandria, Eric was safe, much safer than being out beyond the protective walls of the city. While Eric healed from his injuries, Aaron asked that Daryl take his partner's place, and suddenly Daryl had a job.

He liked Aaron. He was a good guy, strong, trustworthy … so far … and good with a gun as well as a knife. They'd been on quite a few outings, saved each other's asses more than once, and had shared a very profound moment not long after they started working together. While out scouring the surrounding area for survivors, they came across a horse. Even named the damn animal, always a bad idea. Daryl was sure he could capture it and tame it again. The black beast showed signs of previously being domesticated. With a little TLC he was sure he could get the horse to trust him and reignite the bond between human and horse. It was amazing how this strong and durable creature could have trampled him without a second thought, but as Daryl closed the distance between them, he could see that the animal wanted this more than anything. It had survived because it had to, but it craved a human touch. Little did Daryl know that the horse's longing would be its end. Just as he was about to get a rope around its neck, walkers came out of the nearby forest. They spooked the horse, who took off running. It wouldn't get far, though. In trying to capture the animal, Daryl walked it into an abandoned field, surrounded by a rickety old barbwire fence. The walkers got between Daryl and Aaron and the horse. While the men stayed out of sight, they watched regretfully as the dead killed Buttons.

"Damn it!" Aaron said, clearly pissed off.

It took Daryl by surprise that the man cared. He didn't know anything about horses, and had even tried to talk Daryl out of going after the horse when they first came upon it. Now, he was the first one to show emotion.

"We almost had him. We were so close, and he trusted you. I saw that horse look at you and nod its head as if to say thank God someone is finally here," Aaron complained.

Daryl watched the scene before him until the pile of walkers was so thick he couldn't see the horse anymore. It had stopped screaming moments ago, finally out of its misery. What an awful way to die. "That was its first mistake," Daryl said quietly. "Trust."

As they made their way back to their vehicles so they could return to the town, Aaron seemed quieter than usual. Daryl liked the guy, but he had a tendency to talk a lot when he was nervous. For some reason, Daryl made Aaron very nervous, because he rarely shut up. Now, though, he hadn't said a word for a couple miles. The incident with the horse must have really disturbed the guy.

"What happened back there," Daryl said when he couldn't stand the silence any more. "That kind of shit happens all the time out here. That's why you never let your guard down. Once you do, you invite in the chaos."

"Then why did you do it?" Aaron asked solemnly. "Why did you go after the horse?"

Daryl stopped walking and looked up into the canopy of the trees overhead. It was a fair question, and one that had been wracking his brain. "I don't know," he said after a while. "I guess even the wild things need to remember what it was like before all this. Even the untamable need to remember the feel of a human touch." Daryl brought his head down, his eyes falling upon Aaron. The man was watching him with amazement. Something he'd said struck Aaron close to the heart, perhaps. He was naïve when it came to the world outside of Alexandria. Sure, Aaron spent a lot of time out here, looking for survivors, judging them, evaluating them to see if they were worthy of acceptance into their community. He could fight. He was a good shot with a gun, wasn't afraid to stab a walker in the head. But it was his concept of the world that was different from Daryl's. Aaron still thought things would get back to the way they used to be. Daryl gave up on that idea a long time ago.

Daryl thought about that now, as he stood on the porch of Aaron and Eric's house. Life was too far out of control to ever go back to the way it used to be. Besides, why would anyone want that? The way things used to be was the reason they were fucked up now. Life could never return to that time. It would have to find a different way, and people like Daryl were the ones that could cut the path for others to follow. With a little training, he thought Aaron could be like that too. The guy had it in him to be a frontiersman, but he'd have to let go of the false security of Alexandria.

"This damn town," Daryl said, and spit over the railing into the bushes below. It was the center of all his problems, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Of course, he could leave and set out on his own again, but he knew there was safety in numbers, even if those numbers were weak and clueless.

Rick had some hair brain idea that they could run the place, and get everyone to conform to their way of thinking. He would risk fighting the townspeople to do this. Even Carol, Daryl's most trusted friend and ally had jumped on board. She usually consulted with him before making any decisions, but Daryl hadn't been very accepting lately. Ever since arriving in Alexandria, Daryl made it a point to stay aloof. Usually, he was right in there with the rest of them, but not this time. The chaos was simmering just below the surface, and he wasn't ready to help set it to a boil.

This was the reason why he took up with Aaron and Eric. They weren't exactly the social butterflies that all the rest were. When Deanna held a party for the newcomers, everyone went except Daryl. He didn't want any part of that fake shit. That's when he came across Aaron again, and took notice that he wasn't up for socializing either. Aaron invited Daryl in for 'pasta night'. It seemed corny as hell, but not as screwy as the dinner party Deanna was throwing. So he decided to take a chance and joined Aaron and Eric for dinner, and he never left.

Daryl heard the screen door creak, heard the quiet footsteps approach him, and knew it was Aaron. "Everything alright?"

Daryl nodded. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep is all."

"I had quite a few of those nights when I first came to Alexandria. It was hard getting used to it, but eventually I came around," Aaron said. "Eric was a big help."

"Didn't you two come here together?" Daryl asked.

Aaron shook his head. "Eric was already a resident. I came with another group. Some stayed, some left. I was going to leave too, but I struck up a friendship with Eric and . . ." His words trailed off as he smiled and looked out over the street that ran in front of the house. "We've been together for a few years now. We just kind of hit it off, I guess." Aaron's hands grasped the railing as he looked down. "But someone like you wouldn't want to hear about that."

Daryl glanced at him from the corner of his narrowed eyes. "What do you mean, someone like me?"

"Oh, I … I didn't mean anything by that," Aaron said right away, sounding regretful.

"Naw man, you started it. So what do mean? Be honest. That's all I want from anyone is to be honest with me," Daryl encouraged.

"Alright," Aaron hesitated to say. "Well, we're both a good judge of character, so let me start by asking you a few questions, and see if my assumptions are correct."

Daryl wasn't sure where he was going with this, but he trusted Aaron, and the guy always seemed to make good sense. "Go on."

Aaron turned to face Daryl, making the man feel a little uncomfortable. "I take it you come from somewhere in the South where people like me and Eric are not socially acceptable. So what term did you use for us, butt pirate, cock jockey, queen, queer, faggot?"

"Come on man, what kind of–"

"Be honest, remember?" Aaron reminded him.

Daryl didn't like where the conversation was going, but he had already agreed to play along. "Fag," he said under his breath. "Mostly that. It was my father's term."

"And I'm sure you had different terms for race too? For blacks, Asians, Mexicans … the list goes on, am I right?"

Daryl nodded, not wanting to answer with actual words. "So, my family was fucked up, but they were still my blood. Yeah, I grew up hearing all the racial slang. Doesn't mean I agreed with it," he defended himself.

"Obviously you don't, or you wouldn't be here now," Aaron said. "My point is, even though we shouldn't judge each other by looks, religion, or personal choices, sometimes it speaks louder than words. I could tell right away by your southern drawl, your clothes, hell even the motorcycle you rode in on that you were someone who was raised to see people like me in a negative light. But you don't really know until you speak to that person and find out whether they really believe in what they were told all their life. I knew right away that you dressed the part, but that you didn't stick to family traditions of insulting those of us who are different. Whether you were ever that way or not, I don't know, but now you aren't, and that's very clear to me. It doesn't mean that you are comfortable to hear me go on about my relationship with another man, and I understand that."

Daryl was quiet a moment, and then he turned his eyes towards Aaron. "You always take the long way around an explanation?"

Aaron laughed. "I guess I get carried away sometimes. Sorry."

"Naw man, it's cool. I get it."

Aaron looked at Daryl with real understanding. "Thanks," he said sincerely. They were silent for a while, each man deep in his own thoughts, but something seemed to weigh on Aaron's more than Daryl's. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure," Daryl said tersely.

"Why do stay here with me and Eric?"

"Because you offered," Daryl answered.

"Yeah but, all your people are huddled together in one house. You're a very tight net group, and I get that, but why aren't you with them?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't really investigated that answer yet, but leave it to Aaron to bring it up. "I don't know. It's quiet here, far from everyone else. You and Eric are pretty laid back. You don't make a fuss, let me do as I please."

Aaron smiled slightly, the corner of his mouth curling with the pleasure of knowing he'd made a good impression. "I think we're a lot more alike than you might think. I mean, besides the obvious, of course."

A sharp pang of anxiety shot through Daryl's chest, and he felt himself go on the defensive. "What do you mean by that?"

Aaron must have sensed Daryl's uneasiness and he released a light laugh. "Well, our good looks for one. We're both very handsome men, don't you think?"

Daryl was relieved to know it was only a joke, and he gave as much of a smile as he had in a long time, his eye tooth showing and the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit. "Yeah, whatever."

Aaron sidled up next to Daryl, their shoulders almost touching. "Seriously, though," Aaron said. "I'm glad you're here, and I'm glad you're comfortable with us. It's nice having someone around who isn't always looking at us like we're different."

"Surely these people don't treat you like that," Daryl said, surprised by Aaron's admission.

"I don't mean to say that they are mean to us, or make fun or whatever. It's just the way they behave around us, like they don't really know what to say. There's not much common ground when most everyone here has the 'traditional' family … husband, wife, two and a half kids. I don't know about Eric, but my life before hell was released was not about white picket fences and a golden lab in the back yard." He stopped to huff a laugh as he remembered his past life. "When I was younger, I used to tell my parents that I was going to the library to study, and then hitch a ride downtown to this gay nightclub. I was underage, but I befriended one of the bouncers who would sneak me in the back. He knew I wasn't there to drink and I wasn't. I was just beginning to figure out who I was and why I was like this. I could be myself in that place, dance with any guy I wanted, strike up a conversation, flirt, whatever. It was the happiest I'd ever been. I don't think I've been that happy since." Aaron stopped to look off into the distance, seeing visions of a life that would probably never be that way again.

"Not even now, with Eric, I mean?" Daryl asked. He was thrown off by how easy it was to talk to Aaron about the lifestyle, but he didn't focus on it.

Aaron came out of his haze of memories, smiled and looked at Daryl. "Eric is a good man. I'm lucky to have found him." That was all he said, but he didn't answer Daryl's question … or did he?

* * *

A few months went by. Daryl was a little more at ease with life in Alexandria, as long as he was allowed to come and go as he pleased. Going on recruitment runs with Aaron was the best thing that could have happened to him. He could still go out, hunt for food, kill walkers, and feel as though he had a sense of purpose and contribution to the city. Mostly, he liked hanging out with Aaron. They had bonded as friends, and shared a lot of stories and personal information, but not everything, of course. Daryl didn't think he was ready for that. He had told Beth, but that's because she half guessed it. Once he opened up to her, though, it was like a huge weight had been cast from his shoulders. When she died, he hoisted those weights back onto his body, adding a few more pounds to make sure he'd keep his mouth shut from then on. But Aaron made him feel almost normal without having to expose his secret. There was immense trust between them, and that was something rare these days.

Meanwhile, Aaron's relationship with Eric seemed a bit stretched lately. Daryl thought it was due to the fact that he had taken Eric's position as recruiter. Those two used to go out on runs together until they came upon Daryl's group. Aaron went off, leaving Eric behind when things went bad. Eric was hurt, and he was still healing from his injuries. Aaron had been very insistent in not wanting Eric risking his life anymore. Eric seemed fine with it at first, but lately he seemed upset, jealous even. And then one evening, Daryl had been out on his own needing some alone time, when he came back to the house and found them arguing. He stood outside on the porch, not wanting to interrupt, but the windows were open and he could hear what they were saying. It seemed Eric was jealous, but not of the job. He was jealous of Daryl and Aaron spending so much time together.

"I don't know what you want from me, Eric. It's my job to go out on runs," Aaron argued.

"I don't care about the job. I just don't want you going with him anymore." The way Eric said 'him' sounded like it was a bad word. "He's going to get you killed."

"Why would you say that?" Aaron countered. "We've been successful every time we've been out. I've never come back with more than a few scratches."

"He's not one of us. He might be your friend now, but when push comes to shove, he's going to choose himself or his people over you. You'll be the bait while the rest of them get away."

"You're being ridiculous, Eric."

"Am I? I'm not the only one to think this way. There are others who don't trust these people. We've been here for years. They've only just arrived and already they are leading and managing. They are going to destroy this place unless we take back total control."

"They are teaching us how to be prepared so that won't happen. Jesus, Eric, would you listen to yourself? You make it sound as though they are out to get us, but I'm telling you you're wrong, especially about Daryl. He didn't have to stay. He didn't have to help out. He's not even part of their group right now. But he's here, and he wants to be here. Daryl doesn't want to take over. He just wants us to be safe. He knows that Alexandria can be a safe haven."

"It already is," Eric shot back.

"No, it's not. It's an illusion. Deanna makes the rules, and some people follow them strictly, but some do not. Those are the dangerous ones. They will eventually invite the chaos, and we'll just be sitting here in our fancy houses with our well maintained yards and our thumbs up our asses."

"That's what these newcomers want you to believe so that they can gain control," Eric said.

"And what's so bad about that?" Aaron argued with a raised voice. "Maybe we need some new ideas in this place. All I know is what I've learned since meeting Daryl, and everything I thought I was doing right before would have gotten me killed. He's taught me to be more focused, to use all my senses whether with new recruits or the dead. These people have been out there longer than any of us in here. They know that eventually things are going to get bad again, and I'd rather be prepared than sit here and complain about not liking outsiders."

"I can't believe you," Eric said calmly. "You're choosing them over us."

"There shouldn't be us or them. It's all of us together surviving."

"You know what? I've had enough. I'm going over to Gerrard's house. It's bridge night, and they play until the early hours," Eric threatened.

"Come on, don't be like that. Stay," Aaron pleaded.

"You want company, find Daryl. I'm out of here." Eric burst out the front door, giving Daryl no time to get off the porch. It looked bad that he was standing there eavesdropping, but he pretended that he just arrived.

"Hey Eric," he greeted as though he hadn't heard a thing.

"Oh, look who it is," Eric said snidely. "Aaron, the boss man is here to teach you another lesson in survival."

"What's that all about?" Daryl said, eyes narrowing.

"Like you don't know," Eric seethed. Then he went down the steps and headed up the street.

"What's with the attitude?" Daryl said to Aaron.

Aaron shook his head. "I don't know what's wrong with him lately, but he's being a real ass."

"Maybe I've overstayed my welcome. I know it's not easy having a house guest."

"No, it's not you. Well, for Eric it is, but something else is going on with him," Aaron said.

"Is it because I go on runs with you now? If it is, I'll back down. I can go out on my own, let you and Eric run things again."

"No, absolutely not. I don't want him out there anymore. He almost got himself killed last time," Aaron said defiantly. "He's just being difficult. Don't worry about it. He'll come around." He tilted his head towards the open door. "Come on in. It's pasta night," Aaron smiled. "Linguine Alfredo, if you don't mind cold noodles. Or I can heat it up for you."

"That's ok, not really hungry anyways," Daryl said turning down the dinner offer.

"Yeah, me either. To tell you the truth, I'm getting sick of it myself." Aaron went inside and Daryl followed. They went into the living room. Aaron had a seat on the stuffed chair, and Daryl plopped down on the couch like a teenager just coming home for the night. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a bottle containing a clear liquid, and set it proudly on the coffee table. Then he waited for Aaron to say something.

"What's that?" he asked.

Daryl smiled. "That is grade A super fine white lightening."

"Moonshine?" Aaron's eyes lit up. "Where did you get that?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot disclose my source," Daryl jested.

"Alright, keep your secrets. I'll get a couple glasses." Aaron started to get up, but Daryl waved him back down.

"Real men don't need no fancy glasses, son." Daryl made his southern accent thick as he spoke. He picked up the bottle, pulled the cork out with his teeth and spit it across the room. Then he handed the bottle to Aaron. "It's your home, you get the first drink."

Aaron inspected the bottle a moment, then he drank deep. He swallowed, but he coughed and sputtered, his face turning bright red. "Holy shit, what the hell is that?"

"That's pure grain alcohol," Daryl said smoothly, taking the bottle, holding it to his lips and let the devil's brew slide down his throat. It burned all the way down, heating him from the inside out.

"Well, it tastes like gasoline," Aaron complained, but after watching Daryl enjoy it, he snatched the bottle back and gave it another try. Surprisingly, it went down much better the second time. He smiled when he noticed that it wasn't half bad.

"Slow down there. This shit sneaks up on you like a snake. Just as poisonous too. It'll bite you in the ass," Daryl warned.

"At this point, I don't really care," Aaron said, throwing caution to the wind, and taking another sip before handing the bottle back to Daryl.

They spent the next hour talking about anything and nothing, passing the bottle back and forth between them. Aaron got up to use the bathroom, and when he came back, he sat on the couch next to Daryl so they didn't have to keep sliding the bottle back and forth across the coffee table. Daryl looked down and noticed a scar on Aaron's wrist.

"You get that during one of your runs?" Daryl asked, feeling no pain from the alcohol.

"This?" Aaron said, lifting his arm to show Daryl. "No. That happened a long time ago. I guess I was about fourteen, confused, depressed, lost. It was a stupid thing to do, but I learned my lesson."

"What … you cut yourself?" Daryl asked.

Aaron nodded. "Slit my wrist, only this one though. I chickened out before I could finish the job."

"Why?" Daryl said, disturbed. "What would you do that for?"

Aaron shrugged. "I didn't have all that great of a childhood. My dad drank. My mom was a bible thumper. I was an awkward kid, and I got teased a lot in school for it. I'd just discovered my first crush was on this boy in my math class. I sat behind him and would spend most of the class gazing at his thick brown hair, trying to catch a whiff of his always freshly laundered clothes. I didn't understand my feelings at the time. At first, I thought I just really liked him, you know, like wanting to be his best friend or something. Then one day, I was daydreaming and got this boner." Aaron paused to laugh, but there was pain hidden behind it. "Class was over, and I didn't want to get up. It was so fucking embarrassing. I held my book in front of me, but this guy that liked to bully me saw my awkwardness. He pointed and laughed, making everyone aware of my unfortunate incident. I didn't know what to do, so I said something stupid, and started bragging about this popular and very pretty girl who sat near me. I said she was eyeing me, flirting, sticking her pencil in her mouth and sucking on it. But my adversary wasn't buying it. He told everyone that he saw me watching the boy in front of me, not the girl. Then he laughed and called me a faggot. I was already the laughing stock of the school. This just pushed me over the edge. I punched the kid in the face, broke his nose, got sent to the principal's office. Josh, my bully, told them what he'd seen. They didn't seem to believe him; he had a bad reputation to begin with. I told them the truth, though, minus the boner incident … that I was tired of him making fun of me all the time, and I snapped. The principal took me aside when everyone left and asked me to be honest with him. I fessed up and told him that it was true, I liked guys, but that I didn't do anything to anyone, except Josh, but that was because he had it coming to him. The principal sat me down and we talked about homosexuality. It was strange, but I felt better afterwards. He understood me, understood what I was dealing with. He said that I should tell my parents, and that it was the best thing for all of us. So, I did. I kind of had to, since I was expelled. I sat my mom and dad down and told them exactly why I hit that kid. Maybe I was expecting them to be happy for me, or to say it was alright and that they still loved me no matter what. It didn't go down that way. My dad was already drunk for the day. He called me his fag son and blamed my mom for my 'condition'. Said she'd coddled me too much, turned me into a … a … I hate the word."

"Pussy," Daryl said it for him.

"Yeah, that. Anyways, I wasn't really shocked. I expected my mom to support me, but she started quoting from the bible." Aaron laughed again. "I think she tried to perform an exorcism on me. Said something about casting out demons. I can laugh now, but at the time I was completely devastated."

"So when did you do that?" Daryl asked, pointing at the straight white scar that went from one side of Aaron's wrist to the other. He cringed at the thought. Daryl had been through a lot of shit, but he never contemplated taking his own life. That just meant all the assholes won.

"I guess it was a few months later. Things got really bad at home. Eventually my dad left. My mom started dragging me to this church and that church, making me talk to different preachers who said I needed to cast out the demon within me that made me have all these unnatural feelings. She thought she was helping me, but all she was really doing was making me delve deeper into depression. And then one day I didn't want to do it anymore. I drove my dad away, made my mom think I was an abomination. The few friends I had in school abandoned me because of all the ridicule. I was utterly alone, and I did it. I slit my wrist." Aaron stopped and rubbed the scar as though it still pained him. Daryl felt for him, though he didn't show any outward emotions. He rarely ever did, keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself.

"You stopped though. You didn't do the other one. What made you change your mind?" Daryl asked quietly.

Aaron leaned forward, and picked up the bottle, staring at the clear liquid swirling around the glass. "Because it fucking hurt," he finally said, and he took a swig.

Daryl found his answer to be quite humorous, and though he knew it wasn't nice to laugh, he couldn't help it. It started as a hiccup that he tried to contain, but it kept bubbling up in his throat, coming out in short bursts. Not until he saw Aaron smile and try not to laugh did Daryl finally let loose, and the two of them lost all control until tears streaked down their faces.

They finally calmed, each of them leaning back against the couch, heads tilted back and looked up at the ceiling. As they caught their breath, Aaron took another drink and passed the bottle to Daryl. "You've got a nice laugh," he said, and it threw Daryl completely off. No one had ever said that to him before, probably because no one had ever heard him laugh. He'd never had any reason to. He straightened up and cleared his throat, becoming instantly standoffish. Aaron leaned forward and shook his head, realizing what he said might have come out sounding wrong. "Oh, I … I didn't mean anything by that. It's just … we've spent a lot of time together, but never like this, never this relaxed where we didn't have to look over our shoulders every second. To tell you the truth, no one laughs much anymore in this world. It's just good to hear it."

"Thanks … I guess," Daryl said, finding that he didn't want the awkwardness to exist between them. Aaron was right, they'd been through a lot of shit together, and it was nice to relax a moment.

"So, uh, what's your story?" Aaron asked to change the subject.

"Not much to tell. My dad was an abusive alcoholic asshole. My mom split when I was little and left us with him. My brother, Merle, raised me pretty much, but he got in trouble a lot and spent most of the time in juvie. So I spent a lot of time alone. I didn't dare stay with my dad when Merle wasn't there."

"Where'd you go?" Aaron asked.

"I lived off the land, hunted, taught myself to track. I guess that's where I learned most of my survival skills. Merle always said we were lucky to have grown up the way we did. I never understood that until after the outbreak. I guess God was conditioning us for the future, at least that's what my brother told me. He said we were meant to survive and repopulate." Daryl remembered how stupid that sounded at the time.

"What happened to him?" Aaron asked.

He hadn't thought about his brother lately. Beth was too much on his mind, and he mourned her death much more than his own brother. It was a shame it was that way … that he missed a stranger more than his own blood kin. "He, uh, he didn't make it."

"Sorry," Aaron said in a whisper.

"It's alright. It was his own fault. Merle was smart. He could have lasted a long time, but he turned feral, like a cat turned wild. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"I didn't know him, of course, but from what you've told me, you're nothing like your brother," Aaron said.

Daryl huffed a laugh. That was the truest statement he'd heard in a long time. "Well, he sure as hell wouldn't be here right now, I can tell you that. You see, I come from a long line of racist pricks. Merle had all kinds of names for anyone who wasn't like him, and he wasn't afraid to tell people to their faces. Merle's life lessons, he used to call it. Basically you weren't to trust anyone who wasn't white, straight, and from the South."

"And you didn't buy into it? I thought they said you are a product of your environment."

"Well, I thought that too, but even more, I couldn't find it in me to hate someone just because they were different. After all, I always considered myself different, and I didn't want to be a hypocrite."

The quiet seeped in between them for a while as they drank and sunk deeper into their cups. Their conversation had summoned ghosts for each of them, haunting them as they were weakened by the moonshine, leaving their guards down.

"You lose a lot of people so far?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah, only a couple really mattered though … my brother for one." Dare he say the name? Dare he speak of her so soon? "And Beth," he said before he'd made up his mind to keep his mouth shut.

"Was she your girl?" Aaron said, leaning back on the couch, eyes half closed, not thinking about the questions he was asking or what they were doing to his friend. Luckily, Daryl was in a talking mood.

"She was a friend, that's all, one of our group. The place we were staying at got overrun quickly, and we all went off in different directions. Me and Beth ended up together. We learned a lot about each other during that time. She was really special." Daryl had never told anyone that before. He'd had a hard time admitting that to himself, let alone someone he barely knew.

"Rotters get her?" Aaron asked curiously.

"No, thank God. No, she went quickly, probably didn't even know what happened to her." It felt strange saying that, but it was true. Beth was special, and if it was God's will that she had to die, then she went out the best way possible, not as food for the walkers or dying from disease. She'd been shot in the head, quick and painless. "What about you?"

"I was pretty much alone when it happened. About five years after my dad disappeared, we got a letter and a copy of his death certificate from my aunt. Drank himself to death, apparently. Destroyed his liver. My mom died about a year before the outbreak … car crash. I was living on my own by then. I had a boyfriend at the time, but I don't know what happened to him. He was a flight attendant, and he'd been working a route overseas to Europe and back to the states. He just never came home."

"Sorry to hear that," Daryl said, not knowing how to comfort someone.

"It wasn't serious. I mean, we were together and all, but … well … I found out that he was cheating on me. I was leaving him anyways. Hope the bastard got what he deserved." Aaron tried to seem unconcerned, but Daryl heard the pain still in his heart. He might think he didn't care, but Aaron hadn't had the closure, and it probably still got to him at times. "So is there anyone left behind that you wonder about? A girlfriend? An ex?"

The thing about moonshine was it had a tendency to make you open up, like a truth serum. Daryl was so at ease talking with Aaron that he didn't think twice. "I never had a girlfriend."

Aaron took another sip, and used the bottle to point at Daryl. "What? A good looking guy like you never had a girlfriend?"

"Living in the deep woods of the South wasn't exactly the best place to pick up a date." Among other reasons, he thought to himself.

"And the opportunity never presented itself when you met Beth?" Alcohol was playing a part in Aaron's brave line of questioning.

"I told you, it wasn't like that with her," Daryl said, voice raised with anger.

Aaron realized what he'd asked and sobered for a second to apologize. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me."

Luckily, the moonshine tamed Daryl to a point, and he let the comment go to the wayside. Otherwise, Aaron might have found himself laying on the floor bleeding profusely from his nose. Instead, Daryl turned the question around on Aaron. "How'd you end up with Eric anyways? He the only gay guy in town?" It was a low blow, but better than wasting energy on throwing a punch.

"Alright, alright," Aaron relinquished. "I deserved that. Actually, it started that way, I guess. Don't meet many gays these days," he said jokingly to make fun of himself. It seemed to work at putting Daryl back into his laid back mood. "I mean, I wasn't physically attracted to him at first, and he really didn't seem my type. But as I got to know him, he seemed alright. He's weak though, and I kind of took him under my wing. He was getting pushed around by some of the men in town, Merle types. Deanna had changed him to four different jobs trying to find a place where he would fit in. He's not strong, not quick, kind of a goof and accident prone. Then, I got offered the job of recruiter, and he went with me."

"So you're like his keeper, but with benefits," Daryl commented.

"If I hadn't come along when I did, there's a good chance Eric would have been left outside the gates. He'd be dead by now if it wasn't for me. Not everyone can be a hero. Not everyone has the ability to be a warrior. It's up to those of us who are to protect the ones that aren't," Aaron explained.

"That's not a reason to be in a relationship with someone," Daryl said. "Now he's starting to figure it out, and he'll resent you for it."

"Hey, I didn't know what I was getting myself into," Aaron countered. "I helped him and he looked up to me. We hit it off. And a man gets lonely from time to time, even a gay man." He waved Daryl off and got up unsteadily from the couch. "What would you know about it? You've never had a girlfriend. You've probably never even slept with a girl. As a matter of fact–"

"You need to shut the fuck up before you make me do it for you," Daryl seethed.

Aaron ignored him. "That's it, isn't it? I've hit the nail on the head. You're a virgin, aren't you?"

"Fuck you, man. I don't need to tell you shit." Daryl felt the wall building back up, and just when he thought he'd found a friend he could confide in.

There was a knock at the door, catching them off guard. Aaron went and answered it, finding one of his neighbors out on the porch. "Hey Lou, what's going on?"

"Hey Aaron," Lou said, looking past him and seeing Daryl on the couch. Daryl waved and gave a smirk of a smile. "Everything alright here?"

"Yeah," Aaron smiled. "Me and Daryl were just hanging out."

Lou was a big man, tall and broad in the shoulders with short dark hair and a beard. He was one of the construction workers who helped to build new protective walls and repair the existing ones. Daryl had seen him around, but he'd never officially met him. He didn't like the way this guy was eyeing him, though. Daryl wondered if he was one of the people who he heard Eric speak of, the ones who didn't want Rick and them in Alexandria.

"Well, me and some of the guys are over at Gerrard's house. Eric's over there too," Lou informed him.

"I know. He told me. Is he ok?"

"He's fine, but a little drunk. It's no big deal, but he's already passed out on Gerrard's couch. I just thought you'd want to know. Want him to stay there for the night?"

"Yeah, don't move him. Let him sleep it off. I'll come by in the morning and get him," Aaron said. "Thanks, Lou. Tell Gerrard thanks too."

"Sure thing, Aaron." Lou glanced once more at Daryl before he left.

Aaron came back and sat on the couch again. Daryl noticed that he was distracted. "You ok?"

Aaron nodded. "He's never not come home before. He must really be pissed at me."

"Why don't we call it a night," Daryl suggested. Things weren't looking good. It was time to forget about everything and get some sleep, sort things out tomorrow.

"Alright. I'm kind of trashed anyways." Aaron stood and went to the stairs.

"Don't worry about Eric," Daryl said. "He'll come around tomorrow."

Aaron gave a weak smile and a wave. "Goodnight Daryl." He went upstairs. Daryl could hear him walking from the bathroom to the bedroom. Then he laid down on the couch, closed his eyes and went to sleep. Tomorrow, he'd find a new place to live. His being here was making life difficult for Aaron and Eric, and he didn't want to be the cause of anyone's problems.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Social Parties Are Not His Thing**

"You sure you want to do this?" Aaron said as he watched Daryl shove clothes into a duffle bag.

Daryl had made up his mind the night before to find his own place. He'd been staying with Aaron and Eric for a little while now, but he felt like a third wheel, and Eric was getting a little resentful. Daryl knew when he was about to overstay his welcome. "It's time I went. You guys need your place back. You don't need me hanging around."

"Was it something I said last night? I'm sorry if it was. That moonshine made me say stuff I normally wouldn't," Aaron apologized.

"Naw, man. It's cool, but you and Eric got some stuff to work through and you don't need me here," he admitted.

"Are you sure? I kind of got used to you being around," Aaron admitted.

"We still got our gig," Daryl reminded him. "And I'll be here for pasta night."

Aaron smiled and patted his shoulder. "Alright," he laughed. "It's always tough when they leave the nest," he jested.

Daryl smiled again, the second time in such a short period. Aaron had a tendency to make him smile with his humor. "So when is our next run?"

"I don't know. Deanna hasn't scheduled anything yet. Oh," Aaron remembered. "She's throwing another get together this weekend. Eric and I are going to this one. It's not a dinner party like before. It's just a social get together. You can come with us if you want to."

"I don't know. I'm not exactly the social type," Daryl said cautiously.

"Why don't you come? If you're uncomfortable, we can leave early," Aaron suggested.

"Alright, I'll think about it," Daryl agreed, not sure why he was letting Aaron talk him into it. He went to the front door and opened it.

Aaron called out to him. "If you want a haircut, Jessie used to be a stylist."

"You telling me to clean up?" Daryl called back.

"Just wondering what you'd look like with your hair out of your eyes."

Daryl looked at him perhaps a little longer than he should have. Aaron didn't look away, and the corner of his mouth curled into a slight smile. "I'll think about it," Daryl said again, and left.

As he walked down the street to Rick's house, he thought about the exchange. If someone would have asked him a couple days ago, he would have said they were nuts to think Aaron was flirting with him. But after their open and honest conversation last night, Daryl realized that he and Aaron had a lot more in common than he first thought. They'd both come from broken families with daddy issues. And both had yet to find their niche in the new world. They made a good team as far as being recruiters and working together. That was no reason to jump to conclusions. Besides, Aaron had something going on with Eric. They'd been together for a while. They might be going through some difficult times, but that's just how it was. Daryl knew he was being ridiculous, and pushed the thought out of his head. There were more important things to worry about … first, to find a place to crash.

* * *

He waited until the day of the party to do anything about his appearance. Daryl laughed to himself when he thought about Carol telling him to take a bath after they first arrived in Alexandria. He'd been so defiant about coming here that he hoped his lack of hygiene would steer everyone away. It must have been almost a week before he finally cleaned up, and even then, he washed off in the sink. It didn't seem right to soak in a tub full of warm water, not when the people he knew, who weren't in this world anymore, had died not knowing the joy of being normal. Daryl felt that washing away the dirt and grime was washing away the memories too. It would take some getting used to, returning to a normal life, or as normal as someone could find in this world.

Daryl stopped in and paid a visit to Jessie, one of the residents. She gladly cut his hair, but without taking too much off. He actually liked his long hair, and even though Aaron suggested cutting it short, Daryl left just enough to cover his eyes. It was his security blanket, so to say. He thought it made him look more mysterious, not being able to see his eyes clearly. His hair had been down below his collar, so he had Jessie trim it so it just touched the top. She trimmed his goatee and mustache so it was more manicured and short. His whiskers had gotten unruly without proper shaving equipment. At least he felt a little more human without losing who he was. He could live with this look. Now what to wear.

Daryl figured his leather vest wasn't appropriate. All he had was some flannel shirts, nothing real nice. For this, he went to Carol. She took him to Rick's house and found him a decent denim shirt, casual enough for the party, but not too stiff and anti-Daryl. She was good like that, always knowing what worked and what didn't work. He had buttoned the shirt all the way except for the very top one. When he came out of the bedroom, Carol gave him a skeptical look.

"You trying to impress someone tonight?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

Daryl fidgeted, pulling at the shirt when his hands needed something to do. "No," he said defiantly, but then his voice softened a bit. "Maybe. Aw, hell, I don't know. I'm just trying to be a little more social, nothing more."

"Here," Carol smiled as she approached him. She unbuttoned the top few buttons. "That's better. Show a little more of that handsome chest, but not too much. You're not John Travolta, and this ain't Saturday Night Fever."

"Thank God for that," he mumbled. Then a thought came to him. It had been a very long time since he thought about the famous people. "What do you think happened to him anyways?"

"Probably out there in Hollywood eating his agent," Carol said with humor. She pushed his hair behind his ear and swooped his bangs to the side. "So, who you out to impress? Anyone I might know?"

"It ain't like that," he said. "Besides, everyone here is either married or already in a relationship." Nice save, he thought to himself. "I ain't got time for that. You know me."

"I do know you, and I know it's about time you started being human again." She pulled at his collar so it sat up a little more without sticking straight up like some 80's reject. "There," she said satisfied with her contribution. "You look very handsome for someone not out to make an impression."

"Carol," he complained.

"I'm only teasing, but you will tell me first, won't you? I want to be in the loop."

"If anything happens, you'll be the first to know that I lost my glass slipper," he joked.

Later that evening, he arrived at Deanna's house with some strawberries. He knew enough about a get together like this that you never came empty handed. If he could have, he would have brought a bottle of that moonshine, but since it was being brew secretly, he couldn't. The town pantry had all the wine and booze locked up, and it didn't seem right to present Deanna with a bottle of her own stock. But he'd been outside the gates yesterday and found a patch of wild strawberries growing. It seemed like a good idea, and when Deanna looked delighted with her gift, he knew he'd made the right decision.

"I'm very glad to see you here, Daryl," Deanna said with a genuine smile.

"You can thank Aaron for that. He's the one who talked me into coming," Daryl admitted. He kind of liked Deanna. She didn't seem all bad and scheming, though he was still leery of her. Whatever she was up to, it seemed like she had the town in her best interest. He didn't think she was out for herself. Still . . .

"You two seemed to have hit it off," she commented. "I wasn't sure where you'd fit in, but I think working with Aaron was a good choice. He's a good man … has a good sense of people's personalities. He says the same about you too."

"I like the job. I like being able to go outside."

Deanna nodded. "No one is being held here against their will. You are free to leave and come back."

"Yeah, I get that. Thanks."

"Well, enjoy yourself, Daryl. Make some new friends. I think you'll find that we are an accepting community." She shook his hand and directed him into the living room where the other guests were gathered. Then she went off to the kitchen with the box of strawberries.

Daryl looked around the room, finding his group gathered on one side. Even though Deanna said they were accepting, he still got the feeling that there were people here who didn't like them being here. Something was brewing, and he would find out about it.

He spoke with Rick and Michonne. They had their suspicions too, but they were better at pretending that they fit in. One thing was for sure, they all had to be submissive to these townspeople until they had a better idea of who was who and what their intentions were. Daryl felt that Deanna didn't know about all her people. She was just trying to run the town as best she could, keep it safe, and only let in a select few. Meanwhile, she was blind to certain people who might be plotting to get rid of Daryl's group, and maybe even overthrow Deanna herself. It was a lot to speculate for now. They'd just have to keep their eyes and ears open, and collect as much information as they could.

"Hey, Daryl," Aaron called out and waved. He came over to him, a smile on his face. "Glad you made it."

"Yeah, man, wouldn't want to miss the excitement," Daryl said sarcastically as he glanced around the room. People were grouped together with others that they were more familiar with. He thought they might have come to Alexandria together, and like Daryl's clan, tended to stick together.

Aaron smiled shyly, looking at Daryl and then looking away. "I, uh, I see you went to Jessie. You … uh … y-you look … good," he stammered, and his eyes turned back to Daryl.

Daryl looked at him solidly. "Thanks. She really knows her stuff. Did exactly as I asked her to."

"How's your new pad?" Aaron asked, changing the subject.

"It's alright. Found a house the next street over. It's not as nice as yours, but I don't need nothing fancy."

"You'll have to give me a tour sometime," Aaron suggested. "You cool living there alone?"

Daryl waved him off and smirked. "You forget who you're talking too?" He looked around again, noticing Eric didn't come over. He was standing with the guys from the bridge game the other night. "How's things with you and Eric?"

"Ok, I guess."

"That doesn't sound too convincing."

"He's still peeved that I'm still going on runs with you, but I really don't want him out there anymore It's not that he doesn't know what he's doing. I'm just fearful of him getting hurt again, maybe worse," Aaron admitted.

"Maybe you should let him go with us sometime," Daryl suggested, though he didn't really want Eric there. Daryl liked hanging out with just Aaron, but he wanted to show his support.

"I think he'd just get in the way," Aaron said at a whisper. It seemed that he liked their arrangement too.

"Well, if it isn't our new recruiter," someone said. Daryl looked over to find the man named Gerrard approaching them, and he took a protective stance. This guy had trouble written all over him.

"Hi, Gerrard," Aaron greeted him. "I don't know if you've officially met. This is Daryl."

Gerrard offered his hand, and Daryl slowly accepted it giving a firm handshake that was more than friendly. It was a message that said, I know what you're about. Gerrard eyed him, though. "I noticed we haven't had any new recruits in a while."

"You know how it is," Aaron said. "It's unpredictable."

"You pass anyone up?" Gerrard asked.

"We haven't even seen anyone," Daryl spoke up. He didn't like this guy's accusatory attitude.

"Not since you all showed up," Gerrard made clear.

"You got something you need to say?" Daryl said, straightening up and taking a step towards Gerrard.

Aaron got between them to cut off any confrontation. "Alright guys, come on. Listen," he said to Gerrard. "Daryl is the best tracker I've ever seen. We cover a lot of ground out there, and so far all our leads have fell flat."

"So, what do you do, Gerrard," Daryl asked pugnaciously.

"I'm on the construction team."

"Then I suggest you just worry about keeping the walls intact, and leave the recruiting to me and Aaron."

Gerrard eyed him dangerously, and then leaned towards Aaron. "Don't you find it strange how they're all finding jobs so fast? I mean, come on … you got that guy Rick who's all of a sudden security along with that chick, and we ain't never needed cops around here. Then there's that Asian fellow's wife all up Deanna's ass all the time, following her around and looking over her shoulder. And let's not forget G.I. Joe who is suddenly the construction manager. Now this guy's taken over your boy Eric's job."

"If you have a problem with it, take it up with Deanna," Aaron advised. "I think they're a good addition to the town."

Gerrard got in Aaron's face, and Daryl was impressed that Aaron didn't flinch or back down. "That's because you got a hard on for this asshole."

"Hey, motherfu–" Daryl started.

"What's going on here?" Deanna interrupted. She said it calm with a smile.

Gerrard gave Daryl a hard look, eyes shooting daggers. "Everything's good, Deanna. Just welcoming our guest to Alexandria."

"If this is the welcome wagon, I'd hate to see how you treat someone you don't like," Daryl complained.

"I apologize if Gerrard has said or done anything to offend you," Deanna said to make things right. It didn't matter to Daryl until Gerrard himself apologized, but he wouldn't hold his breath. "Gerrard, a word please." Deanna left with Gerrard in tow, but not before he shot Daryl another warning look.

"Don't listen to him," Aaron said. "He's probably been drinking, and he's not the most pleasant person when is."

Daryl looked around the room, finding his clan. "You should get back to Eric."

"You ok?" Aaron asked, truly concerned.

"I'm fine. Takes a lot more than some asshole jerk to ruin my evening. Go on. He'll be looking for you."

Aaron seemed defiant, but he did as Daryl said. Daryl went to Carol, who was talking to some of the townswomen. "Everything alright?" she asked when she saw the mood he was in. He nodded and she excused herself from the women, pulling Daryl to the side.

"There's some people here that don't want us around. You noticed that?" Daryl asked.

"I have. Rick is on top of it. We're just trying not to ruffle too many feathers right now. It would do you some good to be more social. That Aaron fellow seems to have taken up with you. It looks good to the other townspeople to be in good standing with some of them."

"Aaron is my friend. I won't use him as some pawn in the greater scheme of things, whatever that might be," Daryl argued.

"I'm not telling you to do that. Just keep him on your good side and stay friendly to his friends too."

Easier said than done. First of all, Aaron didn't have many friends, and second, the one person who did count was already suspicious of him … Eric. "I'll see what I can do," Daryl told her. "Meanwhile, I'm going home."

"Don't go yet," she said, coaxing him into staying.

"Naw, I know when I'm not wanted. Besides, I'll just end up getting in trouble around some of these people, and I think that's what they want.

Carol sighed and gave him a sympathetic smile. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Not much in a party mood anymore." Daryl glanced around the room, his eyes falling on Aaron. Aaron spotted him too. Daryl tilted his head towards the door to say he was leaving. Aaron shrugged his shoulders in apology. He was standing at the food table with Eric, who was deep in conversation with someone else. Aaron looked as if he really didn't want to be there. Seemed Daryl wasn't the only one out of place tonight.

* * *

He had just laid down on the couch and closed his eyes when he heard a noise out on the front porch. Daryl was up and armed with a knife faster than a match strike. He moved under the cover of shadow until he was at the front door. The scuffling noise told him someone was just outside the door. He was pretty sure it wasn't walkers, but it might be Gerrard or one of his minions. Daryl waited until the right moment, and then he flung the door open, knife ready to strike.

"Oh shit! Hey! Shit Daryl, it's just me!" Aaron said quickly, completely taken by surprise.

Daryl looked around the front yard and the street, but he didn't see anyone else. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by to see if you were ok," Aaron said, his breath a little quick with adrenaline. "Jesus, Daryl, you almost chopped my head off."

"You shouldn't be sneaking around on people's porches in the middle of the night," Daryl countered. His heart was beating wildly from the shock. "Get in here, you dick." Aaron followed him into the house and closed the door behind him. Daryl turned on his heel and berated him. "What the fuck, Aaron. Why are you here? Eric is going to be pissed."

"Eric is home passed out in bed. He had one too many glasses of Deanna's famous punch, and he had to be escorted home. I got him in bed. He'll sleep it off until morning."

"And that's where you should be," Daryl told him, turning on a small lamp on a desk. It gave just enough light off to illuminate the surrounding area.

"I didn't want to be there, and I walked around until I found myself at your door."

"How do you even know where I live?"

"I asked Carol," Aaron informed him. "Don't be pissed at her. I was pretty persistent. She didn't want to tell me at first."

"Well, you're here now. Might as well have a seat. Want something to eat?" Daryl offered as he went into the kitchen. This house had an open floor plan so he didn't lose sight of Aaron when he went to the fridge to grab a couple beers.

"Not right now," Aaron answered, and caught the flying beer just before he dropped it. "Where did you get the beer from?"

"I made friends with the pantry patrol. Talked her into giving me a six pack. I gotta pay it back though. Next time were on a run, I'll have to see if I can find something to bring back."

"That reminds me, Deanna wants us to make another run first thing next week," Aaron told him. He walked around the house a little, taking in the layout, and noticed the bookshelf next to the fireplace. In front of the hearth was a plush rug and two comfortable wing chairs on either side. "Got any wood? I'll make you a fire."

"There's a stack on the back porch. I'll go get some," Daryl offered. He needed a moment to pull himself together. He was glad Aaron was here, but suspicious too. When he came back inside, Aaron was sitting in one of the winged chairs, looking through one of the books.

"Nice collection," Aaron said, impressed by the literature.

"It's not mine, so … yeah," Daryl said nervously. He threw pieces of wood into the empty hearth, and tried to decipher why he was feeling this way.

"Oh here, I got it." Aaron jumped out of the chair and went to Daryl. When he took hold of some of the wood, their hands touched. Daryl kept his eyes on their hands, but he felt Aaron looking at him. Then Daryl jerked away, not meaning to be so obvious.

"Sorry," Aaron said. "I didn't mean–"

"It's ok," Daryl said in a quiet whisper, cutting him off. He stepped back and watched Aaron get on his knees and start building the wood pile. He hadn't really looked at Aaron closely before. He was a handsome man, tall, slightly built, not hulking but not a stick figure either. He kept his hair cut short, and Daryl could see by the waviness that it was probably unruly when it got longer. He had blue eyes, and his brows naturally drew together in a way that made him look like he was all business. Aaron was a gentle being, but Daryl had the sense that you wouldn't want to piss him off or corner him … that he would strike out unexpectedly like a viper. That was a good quality to have, to not show all your cards.

"There we go," Aaron said after a while. He'd got a fire going, and now they each took a seat to watch the flames build.

"It's strange to sit … actually sit by a fire. You know, in a chair, in a house, not in the woods or in some deserted broken down cabin," Daryl commented.

"You were out there a long time," Aaron stated rather than asked.

"Too long, but you know, there are things I miss about it, even with all the crazy shit that goes down. I grew up in the deep woods, didn't sleep under a roof very often. The sound of crickets, a full moon casting shadows, stars shining in the sky above, that's the stuff I miss. Seems like every time I found myself back at home because of the familiar sounds and smells, it would get interrupted by a walker. Even now, my ears are tuned to hear one any second. I really hate that I've gotten used to that."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It was difficult coming here and adjusting to a community setting. For so long it was about keeping everyone safe. You kill a walker, and you know there is one less in the world. When I stopped killing them, it felt like they were just building their numbers back up," Aaron admitted.

"Exactly. Crazy, huh? When you're being attacked, you just think, 'I want it all to stop,' but when it stops you're still not satisfied. It gets too quiet, and sometimes that's worse than hearing them."

"That's partly the reason I agreed to become a recruiter. Deanna said I was a good judge of character, something I'd never considered before. All I could think of was going out there and vanquishing the rotters."

"So, why'd you take Eric with you?" Daryl asked. "You said so yourself that he's not a fighter."

"I wanted to teach him what I knew, turn him into a fighter. Deanna was going to put him on pantry duty, taking inventory of our stock, rationing out food and guns. He wouldn't have learned anything about protecting himself. It was a logical solution to put him in the kitchen. I wanted to make him more self-sufficient. I wanted him to do something that people would look up to him for. It takes a certain type of person to be a recruiter."

Daryl huffed a laugh. "And Deanna just agreed with you on this?"

"I told her that Eric and I were a package deal, and she said ok, but suggested that I let him be in charge of the equipment," he said.

Daryl unknowingly started chewing on one of his fingernails, a nervous habit of his. "You must really love him then, to take him under your wing like that."

"Oh … well … I-I wouldn't exactly call it that. Don't get me wrong, I like Eric. He's got a soft soul, but that doesn't get you far anymore," Aaron said, caught off guard by Daryl's statement.

Daryl noticed this as well and got back on the subject. "Hey, at least you got her to agree."

Aaron nodded. "Our first time out, he almost got bit. I practiced with him, taught him how to use a knife, how to shoot a gun. But once we were out there in the real world, he froze. It was a disaster. He just doesn't have it in him, and it made my job even harder. I guess that's partly the reason I jumped at the chance to take you on as a partner."

Daryl heard what he had to say, but he focused on the word 'partly'. "What was the other reason you took me on?"

Aaron smiled shyly again, got up and went back to the bookshelf to replace the book he'd been looking at. He stayed there facing the many different colored spines, running his finger along some of them. "I'll confess that when Eric and I were watching your group to see who was the strongest, who was in charge and had the most pull, I tended to watch you most. I know that sounds a little creepy but–"

"A little?" Daryl interrupted.

Aaron glanced over his shoulder and Daryl could see crimson running across his countenance. "It was obvious that Rick was your leader, Michonne his right hand woman. Abraham took his orders with respect. Carol was good at whispering in Rick's ear like his conscience. But you were kind of in and out. You weren't afraid to disagree, and you let everyone know when you thought something was a good idea. You're strong like that. You follow your instinct before you follow anyone else's, and I just kind of thought that if you all came to live in Alexandria, I'd want you on my team."

It had been a long time since someone analyzed Daryl in that way. His brother never did, and neither did his father. Even other people from his original group thought of him as a hillbilly or a redneck, and so what if he was. At least he knew he'd outlast them all. And then Rick joined their clan. He didn't see Daryl that way. Yeah, Rick thought his brother was an asshole, and rightly so, but he didn't hesitate to go back to the place where Merle had been left behind. Daryl respected Rick for that, saw what a good man he was to care for others when most people now a days only looked out for themselves. Rick believed in him, and that was the first person in a very long time to do that. Daryl was seeing that in Aaron, as they got to know each other better, and he'd become the reason Daryl hadn't left this screwed up town already, with or without his group.

"I'm … glad I'm on your team too," Daryl admitted, the words rushing from his mouth. He got up right away, needing to change the atmosphere, and went to the kitchen, grabbing a couple more beers from the fridge. When he came back, he handed one to Aaron and stayed at his side by the bookshelf.

After a brief silence while they drank their beers, Aaron looked at Daryl with a bit of desperation. "I don't want Eric out there anymore. At first I used the excuse that he needed to recover from his injuries, and it worked. But he's almost healed now, and I'm going to have to tell him the truth."

"I feel like this is my fault," Daryl confessed.

"No, don't," Aaron said right away. "This has been coming on for a while now, but I haven't found anyone to replace him."

"You haven't found a way to tell him either, obviously."

Aaron hung his head, "No." He took a long drink from his can.

Daryl put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, man."

Aaron reached up and covered Daryl's hand, "Thanks." When he removed his hand, he let it slowly slide away.

The sensation gave Daryl a twinge up his spine, and some very old, but not forgotten memories pierced his thoughts. He instantly took a step away from Aaron, acting as though he was looking at the fire. "Need to move some of those logs around." He put his beer on the mantle and knelt down, taking up the poker in his hand. He heard Aaron come up beside him and stiffened with nervousness. He stood, and Aaron was right there, gazing at him.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Aaron said.

Daryl cringed, but something made him say yes. "What do you want to know?"

"Do you think there will be a place for people like me and Eric in the future? I mean, if they find a cure or a vaccine or something, well … this shit has bound to have spread around the world by now, and the population will have diminished. Someone like me isn't exactly going to help bring the numbers back up, if you know what I mean."

Daryl abandoned his previous reserve, and looked Aaron straight into his blue eyes. "There will be a place for everyone who survives when this is through, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Aaron nodded and gave a slight smile. "You seem kind of passionate about it, for a redneck," he jested.

"Yeah, well, let's just say I know a guy."

"Daryl?" Aaron said when he looked down and away. "Are … you–"

"Am I what?" Daryl said, breaking him off with a bit of harshness, hoping he wouldn't go any further.

"Are you … like me?"

Without hesitating and with disgust, Daryl answered. "No."

Aaron looked embarrassed and hurt from Daryl's tone. He didn't mean to make the man feel this way, but it was so sudden. All his life, he'd been confused and wished there was someone he could confide in, but where Daryl came from, you didn't dare tell another living soul if you ever had these kinds of intentions or get hung from a tree. "No," he said again in a softer voice. "I-I don't know."

Aaron's attention snapped back on Daryl. "You don't know. So are you saying you might?"

"I'm saying I don't know." His answer left the conversation open for more questioning, and Aaron didn't hesitate.

"Do you want to know?"

Daryl turned from him, placing the poker back in its rack, and fumbled with it a while. He knew Aaron pretty well by now, trusted him with his life after some of the close calls they'd had out in the open. He knew that if there was anyone he could confide in, it was this man, but Daryl was still afraid to hear the words pass his lips.

"It's alright if you don't want to answer that, but the fact that you haven't beaten me to a pulp yet tells me I've stumbled upon some deep secret," Aaron concluded.

Daryl picked up his can, and looked into the dark opening. "There are some things not worth telling for fear that that ghosts won't go away," Daryl said quietly. He downed the rest of his beer to avoid saying anything more. He was too close to telling his story and it frightened him more than a heard of walkers.

"Well, I'm here for you if you ever … you know," Aaron told him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on his heels. "Well, I guess I better head on home."

"Yeah man. Thanks for stopping by," Daryl said as though the previous moment never existed. He watched Aaron go to the front door and open it. He stepped out and turned with a smile. "Good night, Daryl."

"G'night," Daryl called back, and then he was alone once more to consider what had just transpired.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 So You Want To Learn To Track**

The weekend passed by uneventful. Daryl thought about that. For so long he didn't know what day of the week it was, and didn't care. It didn't matter when you were out in the world just trying to survive. You knew day and night. You knew when you woke up in the morning that you'd survived another one, and hoped to make it until the next sunrise. So, how sure were they about the days of the week? Maybe it didn't matter. Someone just said, it feels like Monday so let's make it that. It still didn't matter to Daryl. He was still just surviving day to day and nothing more.

But since they were going by days of the week, it was now Tuesday, and he was on his way to Deanna's house to meet up with Aaron and get their instructions and equipment to perform another run. Daryl was a little anxious to see Aaron again. He hadn't seen or heard from him since he came to the house after the social get together at Deanna's home. They had started a pretty heavy conversation, but Aaron left before Daryl said anything definite. For his whole life he'd had questions about certain things he was feeling, things that his own father would have put an arrow through his heart for. He was raised to hate the kind of people that Aaron and Eric were, but to hate them might have meant to hate himself, if for sure that's what he was. He was still very confused about it, and it was better to let certain things remain dormant. Aaron, though, he brought out that hidden secret. Daryl could feel the child within screaming to be set free. He still wouldn't dare risk it.

He heard footsteps rushing up behind him and heard Aaron call out to him. "Hey, Daryl, wait up."

Daryl stopped and turned to him. Then he looked up at the bright blue, cloudless morning sky. "Good day for a run, wouldn't you say?"

Aaron finally caught up to him, gripping his shoulder in welcome, and that same spark shot up Daryl's spine as before. "I'd say any time we get out of these walls is a good day," Aaron smiled. He was dressed in his usual, jeans, flannel shirt and a blue jacket. Daryl had on his sleeveless t-shirt and vest. He didn't go out without his vest. It was the only thing he had left that he'd had with him since the world went to shit.

"How's the bike running?" Aaron asked as they walked to Deanna's house. Aaron had showed Daryl his garage when they'd first met. It was full of tools and bike parts. Whoever used to live there was an avid motorcycle junkie. For Daryl, it was like Christmas. Aaron told him he could have it all. He and Eric knew nothing about mechanics. Daryl thought he'd like to teach him sometime. It was good to at least know the basics, in case you got stuck out on the road somewhere.

"It's great, best it's sounded in a long time," Daryl answered.

"Guess you're anxious to take it out."

"Yeah, man. I haven't been able to get on the open road with it yet."

They arrived at Deanna's house and knocked. She opened the door with a welcoming smile. "Come on in. I was just about to make some tea. You boys want some?"

Aaron was about to say yes, but Daryl said no first, and then Aaron changed his mind. He did that a lot when they were together, always choosing what Daryl chose. It was kind of funny, sometimes a bit annoying, but Daryl never complained.

"Well, you both seem anxious to get going," Deanna remarked.

"Where will you send us this time, west? We haven't been on that side of town in a while," Aaron asked.

Deanna paced once in front of them, stopping at Daryl's side. "I believe I am going to leave that to you. I've been thinking. I've got the best tracker money can buy, and–"

Daryl interrupted with a cynical laugh.

"Sorry," she said. "Force of habit." No one used money anymore, and it was cliché to make such a statement. "Let me rephrase that. I am lucky to have the best tracker I've ever come across, and I think I've been wasting your talents by telling you where to search and how far to go. You haven't brought any new recruits in yet, and I think it is my mistake. So, I'm leaving it completely up to you, Daryl, as to where you want to search. All I ask is that you give me a rough idea of how long you'll be gone, so we'll know when to start worrying about you."

"Sounds fair enough," Daryl said, accepting the proposal, and feeling his freedom settle into his bones. "How 'bout a week?"

Aaron snapped his attention on Daryl. "A week? That's a long time."

"You got somewhere you need to be?" Daryl questioned as a challenge, a smirk in his eyes and on his lips. He knew Aaron was thinking about Eric and whether he'd approve of him being gone for that long.

"No … no, a week is good." Aaron didn't sound convinced.

"Good," Deanna said, pleased. "Give me a list of items you'll need, and I'll have them packed and ready in an hour. You can go whenever you like."

Daryl did as she suggested and finally, he and Aaron left Deanna's house. But as they were heading back to get their vehicles, Aaron looked very concerned. "You alright with this?" Daryl asked.

"I am, sure, but I don't think Eric will be."

"Look, man, I know this used to be your and his gig. I get that he's jealous or whatever. I'm sorry, but if we're being given the freedom to do this my way, then we're going to do it right, and we are going to bring back some new blood."

"Ok, I get it. I'll meet you at the gate. I gotta grab some clothes and talk to Eric first."

Daryl nodded. "Meet you in an hour."

* * *

They finally headed out on the open road, Daryl leading on his bike and Aaron in his car. The trunk was packed with supplies, equipment, and a few rations. Daryl would hunt for their food, and he was looking forward to it. Actually, he was looking forward to teaching Aaron a thing or two about living off the land. He felt like the guy needed to know these things, or at least more than he knew now. He was smart and a quick learner.

They rode out about twenty miles from town the first night, not too far of a drive, but a long way on foot for someone searching for sanctuary. They went west, like Aaron suggested. He'd been right about not going that way in a while. It was a good start, and they still had plenty of time before they needed to get back. Daryl hadn't felt this happy in a while, and he rode tall and proud on his bike.

The first night was just to set up a camp, use up the perishable supplies that Deanna had sent along with them, make a walker proof radius around their site, and prepare to head out on foot the next day. Daryl found a decent place to make camp, where their backs were up against a hillside. Being protected on at least one side gave them an advantage. Tomorrow, if they didn't find any survivors, they'd pack up and head further out. Daryl thought he knew where an old cabin was. That would make a better place to stay, and he was sure it was going to rain in the next couple days. The air was beginning to feel heavy with humidity. Something was brewing, but it would take a while to reach them.

The first full day out was a bust. Daryl had tracked all day. Only twice did he find something worth scoping out, but they never found anyone. Aaron was right with him every step of the way.

"Can I ask you how you know what to look for?" Aaron said.

Daryl smiled to himself as he was kneeling down, examining some tracks. "So you want to learn to track?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"It's not easy at first. Everything looks the same. You're in a forest. There's trees and leaves on the ground, fallen branches, and logs," Daryl said.

"I see that," Aaron responded, looking around the area.

"Here's what you don't see." Daryl pointed to the ground. "These leaves here aren't dead. They didn't just fall from the tree. They were pulled down in some way, whether by accident or on purpose. Green leaves don't just fall on their own. So something must have come by here. But the leaves are beginning to shrivel, so it didn't happen too soon ago." Daryl got up and went a little further. "Now, see these low branches? Look at the ends. They're broken, and some are not completely severed from the tree. Something came a little close to this tree and brushed up against here, breaking the branches. They're low, so it could be anything from a coyote to a human. If it was an animal, there'd be hair, but I don't see anything. I don't see any pieces of material or flesh."

"Flesh?" Aaron asked curiously.

"Walkers, depending on how long they've turned, tend to leave plenty of it. Practically falls from them if they're rotten long enough."

"I never thought about it like that before," Aaron said, disturbed by the thought.

"That's why it's easier to plunge a knife into some of their skulls than others."

"Ok, so we have green leaves and broken branches. Where do we go from here?"

Daryl was glad that Aaron was actually interested in learning, and not just trying to make conversation. "We look at which way the branches bend, and it tells us which way someone was heading. Let's go this way."

They went along, finding more clues. Aaron even found a piece of yellow thread on a tree trunk. Daryl was amazed at what a good eye he had. His heart began to race. Could they really be on someone's trail? His tread hurried through the forest with Aaron behind, keeping an eye out for the unexpected. Daryl would stop every now and again to show Aaron a new clue, and point things out to him. Finally, they heard movement up ahead, and ducked behind some foliage to see what it was. But just as soon as they thought they'd finally found someone, they smelled it. Rot and decay abused their senses, and just then a walker in a yellow jacket entered their line of sight.

"Damn," Aaron whispered with disappointment.

"Shall I or would you like the honors?" Daryl asked.

"I got it," Aaron said, pulling his knife from his belt. He left the cover of the bush and went after the walking corpse. This really impressed Daryl, how Aaron went out there like it was nothing. The walker didn't turn around until Aaron was right up behind it, and he forced his knife through its forehead. Another one down, Daryl thought to himself. One less walking dead. It made sense though. All the times he and Eric had been out on runs, Aaron was the one to deal with them. He wouldn't have let Eric do it, for fear of him getting bit.

Aaron wiped his blade off on the yellow jacket and went back to Daryl. "Sorry, man. I should have just gone out and done it myself," he apologized.

"Why?" Aaron asked.

"Because you had to do this all the time with Eric, didn't you?"

Aaron looked back over this shoulder to the corpse. "Yeah, but it's no big deal."

"But you don't have to now. At least not all the time. We share the responsibility now, you and me. We're a team."

Aaron thought about this a moment, and then fixed his gaze on Daryl. "I never even thought about it, but you're right, though I'll worry about you no matter what."

"Wouldn't be human if we didn't worry 'bout one another." Daryl dared a smile, and watched as Aaron's eyes widened with surprise.

"Why, Mr. Dixon, you care. You actually care," Aaron jostled.

Daryl laughed. "Alright, enough of that bullshit. Mr. Dixon was my–" He cut himself off.

"He was your what?" Aaron inquired.

"Well, I was going to say he was my father, but nobody ever call him that either. Son of a bitch, prick, asshole … those were my father, but never Mr. Dixon."

They decided to head back to their camp after an uneventful track. Daryl was silent after mentioning his father. He didn't like to talk about him, and he didn't know why he'd said anything now, but it mostly had to do with being comfortable with Aaron.

"You had it rough, huh?" Aaron finally said.

"Yeah. So did you," Daryl added.

"My dad never hit me. Never hit my mom either. He was just a drunk, and a miserable one."

"You're lucky then. I mean, not lucky with who you had as a father, but lucky he didn't use you as a punching bag."

"Did he hit you a lot?" Aaron asked.

"When I was smaller he did. Then I wizened up. I went to my brother and asked him to teach me how to fight. He taught me how to avoid a blow instead. Pissed my dad off something awful the first time he missed. He was about to slap me in the face, and I avoided it. He tried again and a few more times, but he kept missing." Daryl pulled the neck of his t-shirt down a little, exposing a scar just under his collarbone.

"What's that from?" Aaron asked, studying it.

"My dad woke me up with his knife pointed right there. Told me next time I better stand still and take my punishment like a real man or he'd cut deeper than the slice that made this scar."

"He cut you? What an asshole." Aaron seemed very disturbed.

"It was my fault. I should have known he wouldn't let me get away with being a smart ass."

"Why? Because you ducked from a punch in the face?"

Daryl laughed. "No, because I enjoyed besting him."

Aaron's finger came up and touched the scar. "Did it hurt?"

"The knife? No. Knowing my father wouldn't think twice about doing something like that? Yeah." His voice lowered at the memory, but Aaron's touch brought his attention back to the present, and he could feel Aaron's warm breath on his skin.

"I'm sorry," Aaron said sincerely. He lifted his eyes to meet Daryl's and they connected on a level they'd never shared before. His heart rate sped up, and where they touched felt inflamed, as tough the scar began to pulsate with the blood pumping through his veins. Daryl instantly reached up and took Aaron's hand, removing it from his chest, but he didn't release him right away. Aaron's eyes flicked to his lips and back in question. Suddenly, Daryl wanted to know. He'd always wanted to know, but the memories came back, the sound of the leaky faucet dripping into the stainless steel sink, that annoying pinging. It always happened when he let his curiosity get the better of him. Daryl pushed Aaron's hand back towards his chest.

"I … I … don't–"

"I shouldn't have," Aaron stated with sadness. "Sorry."

That night, as they lay by their low burning fire, Daryl watched Aaron from the opposite side. He offered to take the first shift to let Aaron get some sleep. He studied the man's handsome features, his brows, his jawline, the stubble sprouting on his chin, and the light fuzz of a mustache beginning to form. Then he looked at his lips, nice looking lips, pouting, full. What might it be like to kiss another man? He'd kissed a girl a few times on a dare. That didn't count though, and he'd felt nothing. But to kiss a man sensually, with feeling? Something stirred within, and Daryl shifted his position to keep things from bringing on a life of their own. And then Aaron's eyes slowly opened, settling directly on Daryl, as though he knew what was in his mind at the moment. Aaron gave a slight smile and went back to sleep. Daryl turned his attention to the darkness and concentrated on the forest sounds.

* * *

Their second day on the road, Daryl was leading them to an area where he was sure he'd seen an old cabin, but with his thoughts scattered, he was having a difficult time. They'd come across some more walkers, and that got him focused, but as soon as the danger passed, he went right back to thinking about what almost happened. He became frustrated, which always made him extra silent. Marching along through the trees wasn't helping either.

"Damn it!" he shouted in irritation.

"Are you sure it's–"

"Yes I'm sure," Daryl snapped, and Aaron remained silent. Daryl knew he was wrong, but it was too much. He stopped, his shoulders hitching as he took a deep breath. "I've seen familiar landmarks. My group passed close to here. See, I'd go off on my own to hunt or just be alone, always keeping my people close enough not to lose them, and I could have sworn I'd seen a cabin.

He heard Aaron laugh and turned. "You mean like that one?" Aaron pointed.

Sure enough, set back far into the thick growing trees, he could just make out part of a building. "Son of a bitch," he said running his hand through his hair. "You're going to take over my job before too long. I better slow down on how much I teach you."

They made their way to the cabin, but were surprised by what they found. It wasn't old and rickety like Daryl had thought. Actually, it was quite a handsome place made to look rustic, but sturdily built. "I think someone was trying to detour visitors from coming here," Aaron pointed out.

"Someone definitely wanted to be alone. Think it's still occupied?" Daryl asked.

"Only one way to find out." Aaron went on ahead, no fear of what they might find.

It was made of rough sawn wood, and looked very old, but the cameras hidden on either side of the porch gave Daryl a tinge of caution. He signaled to Aaron with his eyes, and they lowered their weapons. If someone was inside watching them, they didn't want to look like a threat. Daryl peeked in one of the windows, but the curtains were drawn and it was dark inside. He tapped a finger on the glass, and they waited for someone or something to come to the sound. Nothing happened. Aaron tried the door, and amazingly it was unlocked. He pushed it open, and stood to the side in case something came out at them. Daryl raised his crossbow, and Aaron cocked his gun. No stench came out. It seemed clear of walkers, but you never knew what was hiding in a room somewhere.

"Hey! Yo!" Daryl called. Nothing. They went in, weapons raised, and took quick inventory. There was a layer of dust over everything. It looked like no one had been there in quite a long time. "Clear the rooms," Daryl demanded. "You take that way, I'll go here." Aaron started to go, but Daryl grabbed his arm. "Be careful."

Daryl was shocked at the modern look inside, compared to the outside. It was fully furnished with leather couches and chairs, expensive rugs, paintings of hunting scenes that looked like they should be museum pieces. There were touch pads where light switches should have been, a beautiful hearth lined with stones, probably from the surrounding area. The whole place was made of cedar, probably from the trees they cleared to build it. The cabin had every amenity someone could wish for, a place Daryl had only seen in fancy magazines where people flaunted their homes.

After checking behind all closed doors and finding nothing, Daryl and Aaron met up in the living room again. "You should see the master bedroom. It's got one of those memory foam beds, huge TV, and the bathroom is bigger than the bedroom I grew up in," Aaron said with amazement.

"There's two more bedrooms on the other side, fully furnished and decorated. The kitchen is all done in stainless steel with the stove on an island in the center of the room. And there's a pool room, table, cues, bar, the works. It's like fucking Homes and Gardens in here. Someone had a lot of money." As Daryl spoke, Aaron walked to the back door and pulled the blinds open.

"And here's what they really spent it on," Aaron said, gazing out the double doors.

Daryl joined him and saw the crystal clear lake out back, complete with a large deck on the back of the house, stone fireplace for sitting outside on those chilly nights, a gazebo, a huge built in grill, and a wooden catwalk that led to a covered boat dock on the water. "Wow," was all he could say.

"I wonder who lived here, and how were they able to keep it so secret?" Aaron wondered.

"It's all about positioning. You can't see the lake from where we were because the house built on a slight incline. Whoever owned this, owned the whole thing, lake, woods and all. I wonder how many acres it is." Daryl stated.

"I wonder if there's a boat inside there," Aaron pointed out.

"Maybe. Let's go see." Daryl and Aaron readied their weapons and went out the back door.

A warm breeze blew in from the lake. It was a perfect day, the kind that could make them forget about what life was really like now. It looked so serene. "I think I would have put up a hell of a fight to keep this place," Daryl commented.

"Yeah, I'd hate to lose it too, but obviously whoever lived here didn't stay," Aaron said.

"Didn't or couldn't," Daryl replied as they reached the wooden boat building. There was a window on the side, and he tapped on the glass. "I don't hear anything."

"There's a door over here," Aaron said from the opposite side of the building. A walkway went all the way around, with the dock located on the right side. Daryl joined him and they each took a side of the door. Aaron turned the knob and pushed it open. Another stench hit them, but much older, not like that of walkers. Whatever was in here had been dead for a very long time.

There was a boat, a really nice one, kind of fancy but not too over the top, a typical motorboat. It was white with a maroon canvas top, a cabin below deck and an outboard motor. The top was down and the door that led to the cabin was open. The stale odor of old death lingered in the enclosed boat building, and they had a bad feeling about what they would find.

Daryl moved forward. "I'll look. You keep an eye out." Aaron nodded.

Daryl carefully made his way onto the boat and towards the cabin. He had his crossbow at the ready, but he really didn't think he'd need it. No one was alive down here. Sure enough, he found a decaying body lying on the floor of the boat cabin. There was a gun on the floor, the corpse's hand still covering it, dried blood near the head, and definitely a bullet wound to the temple. A suicide, Daryl thought. Some poor bastard couldn't make it on his own. At a closer look, Daryl saw a letter pinned to the front of the dead man's shirt. He reached down and tore it off, reading the elegant handwriting.

' _I bought this place as soon as they told me I only had a year to live. I made it two, but the world died before I did. I could have kept going, but what point was there to fight anymore. This place was all I had left. It seemed a waste to use it to keep a man alive whose days were numbered anyways. To whomever reads this, I was not a coward for doing this awful deed. I just didn't want to spend the rest of my time fighting for a few more days. This was a safe haven for me. No roamers came up here while I was alive. I think it's the lake, as though they know they can't go anywhere from here. Anyways, I've left the front door open. If anyone finds this note, take this place and use it for yourself. It gave me two years of joy and peace, and I hope it will bring you the same sense of protection.'_

Daryl went back up top, and handed the letter to Aaron. "Found this on the body."

Aaron read it and shook his head. "Poor bastard. What should we do with him?"

"I say we just seal this place back up, and let this be his mausoleum. It was his pride and joy. There's nothing else on the boat anyways, and it won't help us out any."

"Alright," Aaron agreed. They left the boat building and closed the door behind them. Aaron went out onto the doc and gazed across the lake. "It's really beautiful here … untouched, it seems."

"Bet there's some good game around here, and if we can find some fishing equipment, that would be even better. Been a long time since I had fresh fish," Daryl said.

"So, are we going to haul up here for the week? Aren't we supposed to be looking for survivors?"

"We will, but you see those clouds forming over there?" Daryl pointed. "It's gonna rain tonight. I for one don't want to sleep in the rain, and I'm making a claim on that master bedroom."

"Fine, I'll take one of the spares," Aaron said with disappointment.

They went back inside the house, searching for fishing equipment, and found it in the mudroom. But just as Daryl's mouth started to water thinking about cooking those nice juicy fish in a pan, Aaron gave him the disappointing news. "Well, there's no electricity, and the whole house runs on it."

"Damn. Well, we got the fireplace on the deck. We'll make due, and cook the fish there," Daryl suggested with his advice.

"Let's go then. Not a minute to spare," Aaron smiled, taking the fishing equipment, poles and a tackle box from the mudroom.

They fished right off the dock. Daryl scrounged up some worms for bait, and before they knew it, they had enough fish for both of them. Daryl cleaned them, and Aaron got a fire going in the grill. It wasn't as easy as using charcoal or gas, but it would work fine to cook their dinner. Aaron insisted on cooking, and Daryl didn't put up a fight. He'd eaten his cooking before, and the guy knew what he was doing. Not wanting to get too relaxed, Daryl decided to take a walk around the house, just to make sure nothing snuck up on them. Before long, they had a meal fit for a king.

Back inside, they ate in the kitchen on dinner plates with forks and knives. Daryl found the previous owners wine collection and opened a bottle. Aaron laughed when he poured them a couple glasses. "I thought you said real men don't use glasses."

"That's for moonshine, which I wish we had besides this. Never was one for the fancy stuff."

Aaron took his glass and watched the red color as it swirled around the sides. "Aren't we supposed to have white with fish?"

"I don't know nothing about that. Booze is booze. That's all I know."

"I'll drink to that," Aaron said, raising his glass in a toast. Daryl clinked his goblet to Aaron's and they drank deep.

"That's better than I thought it would be," Daryl said, brows raised with pleasant surprise.

"It's not the cheap stuff, that's for sure."

With their first bite, both men closed their eyes and savored the taste of fresh caught fish grilled to perfection. After that, they dug in, not caring about proper etiquette, moaning with each bite after.

"My God, I forgot what this was like," Daryl said.

"I was raised on the standards, meatloaf, spaghetti, chicken tetrazzini. We never grilled much. My dad wasn't the type to cook. Left it up to my mom," Aaron commented.

"Where I come from, if you don't go out and get your own, you ain't eating. I've been shooting squirrel mostly, rabbit every once in a while, but fish … good Lord above, there's nothing better." Daryl sucked on his fingers, a smile spread on his lips.

"I feel guilty though. We shouldn't have it so good out here. We're supposed to be roughing it, searching for recruits," Aaron said, finishing his meal and taking his wineglass back up.

"I guess for the guy who lived here, this was his version of roughing it. Some people just don't get it. But hey, it's our gain now." Daryl finished his plate and picked up the bottle of wine, handing it to Aaron. Aaron poured some in his glass and started to hand it back, but Daryl waved him off. "That's yours. I'll get my own."

The two men sat on the leather couch, feet up on the coffee table, slouched back with a bottle of wine. Daryl abandoned his glass after dinner and drank from the bottle, but he noticed that Aaron didn't. He still had his glass and refilled it whenever it started to get low. They were silent for a long time, enjoying the feel of having their stomachs full and their heads fuzzy with drink.

Aaron swallowed the last of what was in his glass and set it heavily onto the table. He stayed leaning forward, feet on the ground and elbows on his knees, staring at the empty glass.

"You alright?" Daryl asked. He himself was drunk, but Aaron looked like he might throw up. There was an odd look on his face.

"Eric is moving out," Aaron whispered after a while.

Daryl sat up, taking his feet down. "What?"

Aaron nodded. "He's moving out of our house. Said he won't be there when I get back."

"Why?"

"He said he didn't want me going on this job, but I think what he meant was that he didn't want me going without him," Aaron said.

"Aw, man, I'm sorry. I-I can't help but feel this is my fault," Daryl admitted. "Why didn't you say something earlier? Are you ok?"

Aaron huffed a laugh. "The thing is … I'm … I'm good. I mean, it sucks, but some part of me feels such … relief. I don't know why. I've been wracking my brain, trying to feel remorse, trying to be upset, but all I feel is freedom. Don't get me wrong, a part of me feels bad, feels the disappointment, and maybe it's because I'm not there to deal with it. It was not easy being Eric's partner. It took a lot of effort to be with him, especially after we started making runs together. There was so much pressure to see that he was alright. And then in town, I was protecting him from those that didn't agree with our lifestyle, and from those who just wanted to shelf him, keep him closed off so he didn't hurt himself, or have someone else hurt him."

"You wanted him to be someone he ain't," Daryl pointed out.

"I wanted him to see his full potential," Aaron argued.

"Maybe he already had. You said it yourself. Not everyone is cut out for the same thing. Eric is a nice guy, but this world will eat him alive."

"So you see my dilemma. What's going to happen to him without me?"

Daryl shook his head. "You can't be his keeper and think you can love him. It don't work that way. Takes equal parts to be in a solid relationship."

Aaron bent his head to the side and glanced at Daryl. "How is it that someone who's never had a relationship before makes so much sense?"

"You don't have to have one to know what you want from one." Daryl stood and went to the fireplace. They'd been in such a hurry to eat, they didn't think about starting a fire. It was late now, though, and no one had the motor skills to attempt to make one. Daryl gave a sigh as he looked at the picture above the mantel. There were two men dressed in fancy red coats and white pants, each sitting upon a horse, and a pack of dogs running and sniffing at the ground, probably hunting fox or badger like they used to do a couple hundred years ago. The men were smiling at each other, almost as though they didn't care about the hunt, like they were just glad to be together. That was how Daryl was feeling at the moment, and it was only because he was here with Aaron. "You're right," he said after a long silence. "I ain't never been serious with anyone. I don't know the first thing about it, except for what my instincts tell me. But I know it's not right to be together just to keep them safe or to try to teach them something that maybe they'll never be able to learn. And it's not right to stay with them just because they are the only one like you."

Aaron got up and joined Daryl at the fireplace. "That's it though. I think that's what drove me to him to begin with. I … hadn't met another man since my boyfriend left for his flight that one morning. Things got bad and the world started to fall apart. The group I hooked up with was made up of men and women, some together, some single, none of them gay. We moved here and there, changed up members as we went along. Still, I was alone … in that way. I started to think that I'd never meet anyone ever again, not that I was looking for something. I just needed someone who understood what I was going through, but no one did. The idea that I might never know a touch, or a look was overwhelming. Then, after so long on the road, the group I was with was brought into Alexandria. As soon as I saw Eric, I knew he was like me, and I guess that's all I saw. Finally, someone I could relate to, who understood me. I didn't care if I loved him or whether we were compatible. I was just happy to find another man like me."

"But he wasn't like you. Eric is his own person, and whether he's gay or not, that's not going to decide whether you should be with him. So you thought you could change him, turn him into the person you've been searching for," Daryl said. "Well, take it from me, you can't change people from who they're meant to be."

"And yet, here you are doing exactly that," Aaron said.

"What do you mean?" Daryl asked, back turned to Aaron.

"You know who you are meant to be, Daryl, but you still hide, even though those who held you down are gone."

"My situation is different. I–"

Aaron stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "It's no different. We've all had to hide at one point or another, but what do we have to worry about anymore? The world's gone to hell, and damn if I'm going to keep from living my life in secret." He removed his hand and went to the other side of Daryl where he could see his face, but Daryl wouldn't look at him. He just kept staring into the cold, dark hearth. "I've been wrong about Eric. All this time, I've been trying to make him into someone I want him to be. I was desperate, and that wasn't right. But I didn't even understand what I was doing until you came to town."

"Aaron–" Daryl started to complain, but he was stopped.

"I never would have even noticed him in my past life. If I'd seen Eric in one of those dance clubs I used to sneak into, I'd have passed right by without a second glance. So what am I doing with him now? Maybe I'm just trying to preserve something, a way of life, some kind of normalcy in the chaos. I don't love him. I never have, and I've tried. It's just not there. So I turned to protecting him, teaching him, and that made it ok to be with him." Aaron stopped and shook his head at his disappointment. "We're nothing alike. He came from a loving, accepting family. I came from a broken home, and parents who thought I was an abomination. Maybe Eric was trying to change me too. He always tried so hard to be some kind of homemaker, keep the things around us perfect and all 'white picket fence'. That's just not me, and Eric will never be a fighter. It wasn't until I first spotted you that I started to realize I might have made a mistake. I watched you put your life on the line and thought, that's who I am, and that's the type of person I should be with, two people fighting together, both strong and determined. You're a survivor, Daryl, and you have been your whole life. You were like me." He paused and smiled. "So now you see why I jumped at the chance to have you on my team."

"But you don't know everything about me," Daryl said quietly.

"I know enough for now. You'll tell me the rest in your own time. One day you'll chose what side of the picket fence you want to be on." Aaron stepped away from the hearth. "Well, I'm beat, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Good night." He started off towards the spare bedrooms.

"Hey, Aaron," Daryl called, stopping him. Aaron turned. "Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if you saw me in that club?"

The smile on Aaron's face was genuine … priceless really. "Come on, Daryl. You'd never be caught dead in some club. No … we met exactly when we were supposed to … for both of us, I think."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 Boy in the Blue Jacket**

Another day out on the road, and Daryl and Aaron were up at the break of day, bags packed, weapons loaded, minds set on finding someone wandering in the wilderness. They hated leaving the cabin, and hoped they would return that night, but one never knew what would happen out there. Still, they closed the place up as tight as they could, and did away with anything that might draw something to their sanctuary. It wasn't far to where they'd left their vehicles. They didn't want them at the house, for fear of someone finding it occupied. This place was pretty well hidden, and they wanted it to stay that way.

Now they were heading down the road, going west to scope out a new area. They found a good place to stop and hide the car and Daryl's bike, and then they went into the woods. Eventually, they stumbled upon an old shack, usually a good place to make a base. Aaron got out his spy equipment, and Daryl prepared to go on a short hike around the area. When he came back, he was excited and out of breath. "Grab your stuff. I think I found something."

Aaron didn't hesitate and followed Daryl out of the shack. "What did you see?"

"I seen a guy in a blue jacket. Wasn't no walker either."

"Was he alone?" Aaron asked, stumbling along behind.

"He was when I saw him, but he could be going back to his group."

"Let's find him, and get close enough to hear any conversations."

Daryl nodded as he kept running along. Then he stopped short, Aaron almost running into him. "Get down," he warned, and they both ducked behind some foliage. Daryl pointed, "Just up there. See?"

"Yeah," Aaron said, lifting the microphone with the cone attached. He stuck an earpiece in his ear, and listened. "I lost visual, but I can hear him walking. Sounds like he's pacing back and forth."

Daryl thought that was odd, but he waited. Aaron punched him in the arm. "There's others, only two I think."

"What are they saying?" Daryl asked impatiently.

"Hold on," Aaron shifted the microphone to get the best reception. "It sounds like their making a deal."

Instantly, red flags went up in Daryl's mind. "What kind of deal?"

"I'm not sure. Guy in blue says everything is in his duffle bag."

"Aw, shit," Daryl complained. "I think I know these guys, and if it's them, they are bad news."

"What–"

"Listen," Daryl demanded. "I want you to wait until I got these guys distracted, and then I want you to run. Get back to the car and back to the cabin."

"Why? What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna try and save this kid's ass."

Aaron shook his head defiantly. "I'm not leaving you here."

"I can handle these guys, but I don't want you anywhere near them. They're dangerous."

"But, Daryl–"

"No! Do as I say. Got it?"

Aaron nodded and crouched down low. Daryl cocked his head sharply and stood up. He sighed and made his way around some trees, drawing attention away from the bushes where Aaron was hiding. He raised his crossbow and stepped out into the open. The men were busy harassing the guy in the blue jacket, and they didn't hear Daryl sneak up behind them. "Let him go," he commanded.

The men turned quickly to see who their unexpected guest was, and found Daryl with an arrow pointed at them. One man in particular, with blond hair, tall and muscular, narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms as though he wasn't one bit worried.

"Well, son of a bitch," the blond man said. "If it ain't that punk ass little shit we came across a while back. What you doin' here, son?"

"I thought I told you to move on out of here." Daryl was tense, but he tried not to show it too much. What was this guy's name? Ron? Roy? He thought hard to distract himself. Reg, yeah, that was it, and never call him Reggie.

"We did move on. Looks like we moved in the same direction," the blond man said.

Another man with black hair, and a protruding belly observed Daryl. "Hey, I remember you. This is the asshole I caught looking at my cock when I was taking a piss.

Daryl didn't pay him any attention and let the comment fall from his shoulders. "I suggest you take your bag, let the boy go, and get the hell out of here."

Reg shifted his stance. "We ain't goin' nowhere, and it looks like you ain't either."

"Says the asshole without a crossbow," Daryl responded, training his arrow on the man, but he smiled arrogantly, and his eyes darted to the side. Daryl started to turn, feeling a presence behind him, but it was too late. A third man he hadn't seen held a knife at his neck.

"Drop the bow, son," said Reg again.

Daryl didn't move. He weighed his choices. He could get one shot off, kill the blond man and then have his throat sliced, but there were still two more men. It wouldn't do just to kill the one.

"I said drop it, or you're about to get a real close shave, boy," Reg warned again.

Daryl wasn't through. He had a backup plan. He lowered his bow, and Reg signaled for the one with the knife to let up some. When Daryl had room to move, he leaned down as if to gently lay his bow on the ground, but while in that position, he dropped it and reached into his boot where he kept a dagger. As he came up, he swung his arm out and sliced his captor across the thigh, making him drop to the ground. With the same knife, Daryl threw it at the beer bellied man, sinking the blade into his arm. By now, Reg rushed him, and Daryl dove for his bow. He grabbed it just in time, rolling away from the man so he could get up and get a shot off. He lifted his bow and aimed, ready to take his shot, when suddenly, someone jumped out from behind Reg and grabbed him. Daryl's quick reflexes kept him from shooting just in time, or he might have sunk his arrow into Aaron. Daryl mentally cursed the man. Why the hell didn't he run like Daryl told him to? He had this whole thing under his control, even if it might not have looked like it. The two men scuffled until Reg rose from the ground, pulling Aaron up with him, a serrated hunting knife pushing against his jugular. Right away, Reg made eye contact with Daryl.

"Put it down now or I'll slice off his head," Reg said, viciously seething through his clenched teeth.

Daryl's vision darted from the man to Aaron, and the fear on his partners face made his heart stop. The game was over. Daryl wouldn't risk Aaron's life. They'd just have to find another way out of this mess. Then suddenly, something struck him across the head, and the last thing Daryl heard was Aaron calling out to him in horror.

* * *

Daryl woke up in a haze, smelling a campfire burning, hearing the crackling of the flames, and noticing that his arms and legs were numb. The first thing that came to mind was that they'd cut off his appendages, but when he looked down, he still had legs. He was sitting on the ground with his arms tied around a post at his back. There was barbwire stretching out to either side of him. They'd tied him to a fence post. Daryl blinked several times, trying to make his eyes adjust to the dark, as well as come into focus from the blow on the head. He had a severe headache and his ears were ringing a bit. He could smell the metallic tinge of blood, and looked down at his shirt. He'd been bleeding from his head, hopefully it wasn't a concussion. "What's my name?" he asked himself. "Daryl Dixon," he responded. Ok so he could remember. Maybe not a concussion, but he probably needed stitches. He had to get his bearings and figure out what was going on.

Daryl had met up with these men before, when he was out on his own once. They accepted him quickly into their group, once Daryl spoke in their redneck terms. There was a common language between men like them, and he knew how to talk the talk in order for them to accept him. These guys were rough and up to no good, but at least there had been a number of them, and it was better to surround yourself with human lives rather than go it alone. Soon, Daryl found out what a crooked game they were playing, coming across poor souls desperate for one thing or another. They would prey on these needs, get the individual to divulge information about groups, their hid outs, the kinds of weapons they stocked and the supplies they hoarded. They would make deals with these individuals, trade something simple at first, and eventually demand things that would begin depleting their supplies. Once there was nothing else worth trading for, these men would move in on the weaken group and destroy everything, plundering anything of value. Anyone who tried to fight back was killed. Women had other uses to them, and it didn't always end with them. Daryl had witnessed Reg rape a young man once, when he didn't bring him whatever he'd asked for. Shortly after that, Daryl planned his escape from the group, but not before they tried to recruit him with threats and violence. But he fought back and threatened them instead. He hoped to never run into them again. These were some of the lowliest humans on earth, and now he and Aaron were being held captive by them.

The memory of Reg attacking that teenager was at the forefront of his mind, and he wondered what happened to the guy in the blue jacket. That's why Daryl didn't take off when he saw who the guy was dealing with. All he wanted to do was save the youth from making a life changing mistake, but damn it … Aaron had to disobey his orders. And where was he anyways? He heard someone coming, and put his head down, pretending like he was still out of it, but not actually having to try that hard.

A steel-toed boot kicked him in the leg, and Daryl slowly looked up with narrowed eyes. Reg towered above him, smirking at him. "So, what have we got here?" the man sang. "I thought I'd seen the last of you."

"The feeling's mutual," Daryl replied, and Reg gave a laugh.

"Well, I don't know where you've been or what you've been up to since we last met, but something tells me you've got it good. I mean, look at you. Your hair's been cut and your beard's been trimmed. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've found yourself a nice little cubbyhole somewhere safe. Am I right?"

Daryl didn't answer. He didn't say a word. Reg backed away and reached down for something. He came back with the coned microphone and Aaron's earpiece. "You wanna explain to me what this is, and what you use it for?"

Daryl still wouldn't talk and Reg rolled his eyes. "I didn't think you would. That's why I'm having your buddy questioned as we speak."

"He's not my buddy," Daryl answered, trying to separate himself from Aaron. If they didn't think they were together—

"So that's why he cried out your name when we captured you and knocked you for a loop. Come on, son, don't try to fool me. Now, tell me what all this 007 shit is, and why you're using it on me and my men."

"Piss off, douchebag," Daryl said.

"You see, that's what I thought you were going to say." Reg squatted down to Daryl's level. "You know, you cost me some good men when you ran off that time before. You made a mistake by leaving the pack. We would have hooked you up and seen that you were well taken care of. But you made your choice way back when, and I don't give second chances. However, I feel compelled to break tradition for you, Daryl. I've seen you fight, and you'd make an excellent addition to the pack. You can go far, if you just let it happen. Now, I don't know what fancy little shindig you've got yourself set up with, but I can guarantee your talent is being wasted with them. You're out here playing secret agent when you could be with us living life to its fullest." He turned the microphone around in his hand, examining it more closely. "This is some of the craziest shit I've ever come across, but I'll tell you what, I think it would come in real handy for my business. I bet there's more where this came from. So where you holed up at, Daryl, some kind of FBI agency, CIA, some government facility?"

"Go screw yourself. I ain't telling you shit," Daryl said in a low growl.

"That's almost exactly what your friend said to Lucas." Reg replied. "And that kind of smart ass remark didn't fare well for him." Reg turned his head and called out. "Bring him over here Lucas."

Lucas turned out to be the guy who held a knife to Daryl's throat. Now he had a bloody rag tied around his leg from where Daryl slashed him in an attempt at escape. He also had a hold of a bloody faced Aaron, dragging him out for Daryl to see.

"Let him go," Daryl demanded in a dark tone.

Reg shook his head. "I don't think so. This little fag just might come in handy." He ran his fingers along the side of Aaron's face, and wiped the blood on his shirt. Reg looked at Daryl. "You do know he's a fag, right? Wouldn't surprise me if you didn't. He hides is pretty well, and I know someone like our Daryl here wouldn't be caught dead around some ass packer." Reg nodded to Lucas, who dragged Aaron to the next fence post, shoved him to the ground and tied his hands around his back like Daryl's. Reg regarded Daryl once more. "I'm gonna give you a little time to think over your prospects, but I'll be back to discuss terms, or your friend here is going to take a little trip with one of my more 'enthusiastic' men, if you know what I mean." He gave a disgusting laugh, and walked off.

Once they were alone, Daryl called out in a loud whisper to Aaron. "Hey, you ok? Aaron, you alright, man?"

"About as good as I can be. They beat me up pretty good, but I'll be alright." His left eye was swollen shut and blood was all around is nose and mouth.

"I'm gonna get us out of here, but I need your help," Daryl told him.

"Ok, but that's going to be difficult considering we're both tied up."

"One of us has to get untied, and it probably won't be me. They know I can fight, but you're weakened. They don't think you have much left in you. What do you say?"

Aaron coughed and spit blood to the side. "I'd say they're right, but give me a minute to catch my breath."

"Alright, here's what we're gonna do. First of all, look over there. See that? Try and kick it over to me," Daryl said. There was glass from a broken bottle in the dirt between them. Daryl needed something to help him start cutting through the rope around his wrists. Aaron spotted it too, and he maneuvered his legs, and kicked at it, but the glass didn't make it all the way to Daryl's reach.

"Shit," Aaron complained. He tried again and again, but now it was out of his reach. "I think if I can just–"

"Get back!" Daryl warned when he saw Reg and Lucas coming back over. Things were not going well.

"I got this," Aaron whispered.

"Aaron, no," Daryl warned.

"Just follow my lead." Aaron moved back into his slouched position.

Reg approached them, standing between them and looking from one captive to the other. "So, you make up your mind? You gonna tell us who you're working with?"

"We aren't going to say a damn thing, asshole, so you might as well just kill us now," Aaron said.

Reg laughed at him, unconvinced by his bravery. "He's a feisty one, ain't he? But I'm not talking to you. It's up to Daryl to decide what happens here, but there won't be no killing. No … I've got something better for you, fag. I've got a client that would pay me well for just ten minutes with your sweet ass."

"A client, huh? You sure about that? You sure you don't want me all to yourself?" Aaron accused in front of Reg, Lucas and a couple more men that came to see what the fuss was about.

Reg postured his stance to defend himself, and Daryl could see what Aaron was doing. He was going to piss this guy off so he'd have to release him. Like Daryl had said, at least one of them needed to get free, and Aaron was taking it upon himself to do this. However, he was playing a very dangerous game.

"Are you–" Reg started, but Aaron stared at him with his one good eye.

"I'm saying you like dick just as much as I do … _fag_." Aaron put emphasis on the word. "I know your type. You act like a redneck, talk like one, surround yourself with them, but when no one's looking, your beating off to some muscle man magazine."

"Why, you little shit!" Reg was clearly angry now.

"Takes one to know one," Aaron antagonized.

"Aaron, stop!" Daryl demanded. He was trying to play along, but he was suddenly very worried for his friend. Reg was a dangerous man.

"Get him up," Reg demanded, and Lucas cut the ropes, yanking on Aaron's arm to get him to stand.

Daryl couldn't do anything but watch. He had no way of getting out of his bonds, and the piece of glass was still too far from him. Aaron was getting himself deeper and deeper into shit. The whole thing was going down the wrong way.

Aaron was doubled over, as though he could hardly stand, forcing Lucas to hold him up. "Come on, asshole. Get up," Lucas complained.

Suddenly, Aaron was no longer defenseless. He rammed his head into Lucas' stomach, making the man stumble backwards. It was a surprise move that he didn't expect. With the split second Aaron had before he was recaptured, he lunged towards Daryl, and his foot knocked the piece of glass right to Daryl's feet. Instantly, Daryl pulled it with his boot, and covered it so no one would see. By the time he did this, though, Aaron was being dragged off by Lucas, and Daryl was very worried for him. Punishment would be swift, if not deadly.

"Your boy's not too smart," Reg complained when the commotion was over with.

"He ain't done nothing," Daryl said. "You want to mess with someone, mess with me. Just leave him alone."

"You tell me what I want to know, and I won't use him for target practice," Reg replied.

"Don't tell them shit, Daryl," Aaron called out just before he was let into a barn.

Reg stared down at Daryl. "You better make your mind up quickly, son. I've got some around here who don't care where they stick their cocks, as long as it's warm." He knelt down and looked Daryl straight in the eyes. "First, your boy Aaron, and then you. I got this retarded fella who would love to use you like a bitch."

Daryl glared at him from behind the hair hanging in his eyes. "Fuck … you," he said slowly and spit on Reg. The man didn't even flinch, but Daryl could see red spreading up his neck from the collar of his flannel shirt.

"Maybe I'll save you for myself," Reg seethed. He pulled a knife out and held it to Daryl's neck, making a small incision. A drop of blood slid down his collarbone soaking into the neckline of his t-shirt.

Just then, someone came up to them. "Hey, Reg, that kid's talking. Max fucked him up a little, and he gave us a location."

"Good," Reg said, not taking his eyes off Daryl. "Be right there." He glanced over his shoulder and watched the man walk away before continuing. "You see, Daryl, they all talk eventually, and so will you." Then he got up and left.

Once Daryl was alone, he maneuvered the piece of glass until he could grab it with his fingers. Then he started working on cutting the rope. If he could just weaken it enough that he could break his bonds, he'd be out of there. It was taking a ridiculously long time though, and with ever second that went by, his thoughts were of Aaron. If they were going to do what he thought they were going to do to him . . .

Daryl cringed at the thought and tried not to allow his mind to take him back to that one memory that would not die, the one where he was in that garage, the leaky sink, the sickening sweet stench of rotting hay and wet earth floating in from a nearby window. He could feel the grease covered hands holding him down on the dirty mattress, the scent of motor oil so strong in the air he could feel it coating his mouth. He was suffocating as his face was pushed into the mattress, the fibers invading his tongue, and stink of the man's body covering him made him gag several times, but not once did he scream for help.

"Get it together," Daryl encouraged himself. He had to get free. He couldn't let anything happen to Aaron, couldn't let him go through what Daryl himself had experienced as a teen. Even though Aaron was a grown man, his dignity would be destroyed, and Daryl just couldn't let that happen. He worked faster, not caring that the glass was cutting into his fingers from time to time. But once he was free and had Aaron safe, he was going to kill every last one of these sick sons of bitches so they'd never hurt another person again. This he swore to himself as he worked, and finally, with one more, hard tug, his hands were free.

They were stupid to leave him alone tied to the fence post. No one was paying any attention as he snuck around their camp. The barn was over to his right, and he knew Aaron was in there, but he couldn't go until he had a weapon. From what he remembered about these guys, they kept mobile, never staying in one place for long. They would find an old building, or a barn in this situation, and keep all their treasure in a truck. That's where he would find his crossbow.

It was dark, and Daryl couldn't see too far out from the campfires, but it looked like there were trees past the barn. The fence went around the area, just a slight buffer against walkers. These guys kept a human perimeter around their camp, though, taking out any threat immediately. Finally, he spotted a box truck about thirty yards from the barn. There looked to be two men on guard, easy to take out unless there were others watching. He'd use the shadows to sneak up close, but he'd have to take the first man out with his bare hands. That's when he realized the rope was still tied to one of his wrists. Daryl wrapped the loose end around his other hand and approached the smaller of the two men from behind. He moved swiftly, brought the rope around the man's neck, pulled him down, tightened his grip and kept him from thrashing around too much until he stopped moving all together. There was a knife in his belt, and Daryl took it. Then he pushed the body under the truck. Next, he snuck up on man number two and used the same strangulation technique, found a hand gun, took it and disposed of the body with the first one. He checked the back of the truck, and found it unlocked. He quietly lifted the back door and began searching. There was everything you could imagine in the truck, from canned goods to girly magazines, from toilet paper to prescription drugs, bottles of booze, tools, car parts, you name it, it was in here. And then he saw it sitting on top of a pile of blankets, his bow. As soon as he picked it up, someone came to the back door of the truck.

"What the–" the guy started to question, but an arrow silenced him. Time was up. Now Daryl had to move fast before he was discovered missing. They'd figure it out real soon. He moved from the truck and made his way to the barn, peeked in a window, and caught a brief glimpse of Reg, but he didn't have time to look for Aaron. There was a noise, someone coming up the side of the barn, another lookout. Daryl shot him before he even knew what was happening. He couldn't keep this up much longer before they discovered people missing, and it wouldn't be long before someone found him missing. So he moved along the barn until he found a door leading in from the side, and he carefully opened it and slid in. He hid behind a stack of hay, undetected, but it was very dark inside. He heard a muffled whimper and went in that direction. Coming out from behind the hay, Daryl saw the outline of a man, pants around his knees, leaning over someone, and moaning quietly. Daryl knew this scene all too well.

"No," he thought to himself. "Oh God, not Aaron. He's got Aaron." He was too late. The damage was done. Aaron's life would never be the same. With hatred coloring his world red, Daryl advanced quickly. He put his crossbow down and took out his knife. The closer he got, the more the memories invaded his mind. The bastard who'd raped him as a boy left town the very next day, and Daryl never saw him again. Not that he wanted to, but he never got his revenge on the pig that fucked up his life. He had always sworn that he'd find him and kill him, but he was probably already dead. Now, Aaron had fallen prey, another member of the 'your life will be screwed up' club. If only he'd gotten there quicker. At least he was here now to stop the violation. "I'm sorry, Aaron," was the last thing Daryl thought before he attacked. He grabbed the man by the head, exposing his neck while he pulled him off the victim, and without giving it another thought, slid the knife across his throat from one side to the other. The fat bastard started choking and gurgling in his own blood, collapsed on the ground and convulsed until he stopped moving. It was the man with the beer belly from earlier.

Daryl stared down at the naked and bound prisoner, expecting it to be Aaron, but found himself strangely relieved when he confirmed that it wasn't him. It was a boy, a teenager, and cast over a nearby bale of hay was a blue jacket. Daryl's brief alleviation knowing it wasn't Aaron was replaced quickly with sadness and regret that he couldn't have helped this young man sooner, but the dirty deed had been done.

The boy was crying, shivering and whimpering. Daryl helped him up, but he didn't remove the gag right away. He put a finger up to his lips to shush the boy. "I'm gonna get you outta here, but you gotta help me, you understand?"

The boy was shaking violently, but he understood and nodded. "Good, good," Daryl responded. "I'm going to take this off of you," he said, referring to the gag. "But I need you to keep quiet. Not a sound, ok? Can you do that?"

The boy nodded again, with a little more enthusiasm, now that he knew Daryl was not going to do anything to him. Daryl took off the gag and started undoing the ties around his wrists. As soon as the boy was free, he wrapped himself around Daryl, sobbing uncontrollably. There was nothing he could do but hold him the way he wished someone could have comforted himself after his childhood horror.

"It's gonna be alright, boy. Everything is going to work out," Daryl soothed as he watched the door for someone to come in. They couldn't stay here any longer, and he still needed to find Aaron. Daryl pulled the boy away and took his chin in his fingers. "I need you to tell me if you saw another man, about my height and build, short hair, plaid shirt."

The boy nodded. "He was here, but Reg took him. Your friend wouldn't shut up, pissed Reg off, and he dragged him out to the woods. Reg told everyone to stay in the camp, and that he'd take care of the guy himself."

"Shit," Daryl mumbled to himself. "Ok, I need you to stay here in the barn. Find a place to hide, there's plenty, and hunker down until I get back."

"Don't leave me, please mister," the boy begged.

"You have to be brave for me, ok? I swear I'll come back for you, but I gotta get my buddy first, and then we'll all get out of here."

"Alright," the boy whimpered, sounding unconvinced and terrified.

Daryl searched the dead man and found a gun. He shoved it at the boy. "You know how to use one of these?"

"Yeah," the boy answered.

"Only use it if you have to. Otherwise, stay out of sight and keep quiet. I won't be long," Daryl said once more before he left the barn, grabbing his bow on the way out.

There was no more time to lose. Daryl made his way to the woods behind the barn. A couple men came out when they saw him, but they met their fates by way of Daryl's arrows. He kept moving until he heard Reg's voice in the distance, and followed it. Soon he found himself on the scene of an old abandoned car, and Aaron bent over and tied to the hood. There were things here that proved this wasn't the first time Reg brought someone out here, far from the camp and from the other men. This was his own personal playground.

"Can't keep your mouth shut? I got something to stuff in it," Reg was saying.

"Get away from him," Daryl said quietly from the shadows.

Reg turned and looked into the darkness. "That you Daryl? Damn, boy, you got a knack for showing up at the wrong time, you know that? I was just fixin' to teach this one a lesson. Guess I got room for one more."

"Just go, Daryl," Aaron said at barely a whisper. He sounded weak and injured. They must have roughed him up some more.

"I not going without you, Aaron," Daryl said, determined to save his friend.

"Well, ain't this a little love fest," Reg said. "Is there something you're not telling me, Daryl? You got a hard on for this sweet thing?"

"You're a sick fuck," Daryl said. "Taking the innocence of boys and men, destroying them, wrecking their lives, making them question everything they do, every decision they make. That boy back in the barn, he's ruined now because of you. He ain't never gonna be right again. He's gonna see that fat pig's face every time he … he–"

"You sound knowledgeable, Daryl. Something happen to you? It did, didn't it? Someone tapped that, popped your cherry. Hmm, I do like a virgin, and I imagine whoever got to you had a hell of a good time with you. Too bad I didn't get you first," Reg antagonized.

Daryl knew what the man was doing. He was trying to distract him, mess with his mind, throw him off his game, and he was doing a good job of it. Daryl's mind flashed back and forth from his childhood to present. Reg morphed between himself and the bastard who took his innocence. Tears stained his eyes, blurring his vision. The boy in the blue jacket, he couldn't save him. His life was ruined just as Daryl's had been. But Aaron, was he . . .? Had Reg done anything to him yet? Could he still save Aaron from the nightmares?

"You're going to die now, motherfu–" Daryl was hit from the side, his bow flying across the yard. He hit the ground with someone landing on top of him, the wind knocked from his lungs. He was disoriented at first, and the darkness kept him from seeing his attacker.

"Tie him up, Lucas," Reg demanded. "We'll save him for later. But right now, I've got something for you," he said to Aaron.

Time slowed for Daryl, and everything happened one piece at a time. He was paralyzed from lack of oxygen to his lungs, struggling to take a breath. Lucas was punching him in the face, trying to blind him and break his nose. Daryl tried pushing him away just enough to look up and see Aaron. Reg was completely oblivious to the scuffle between Lucas and Daryl. He went to Aaron, hovering over him, saying something that made Aaron struggle against his bonds. Then Reg started undoing Aaron's belt and the button on his jeans. Daryl heard the slow downward zip of his zipper, saw Reg's hands pulling at the waistband of his pants. Aaron struggled against him, but Reg punched him in the back of the head. The sound of Aaron's head bouncing off the metal hood of the car made Daryl cringe. Aaron went slack, no longer able to fight back. Lucas had Daryl's arms behind him and was attempting to hogtie him while he was weak. Daryl yelled, "No!" As he watched Reg pull his belt from the loops of his pants. Daryl found the strength he needed to fight Lucas and flipped onto his back, brought his knees up to his chest and kicked his legs out as hard as he could, sending Lucas flying across the yard. The ropes weren't tight yet, and Daryl slipped them off. By then, Lucas was on top of him again, throwing punches. He managed to glance over at Aaron, and saw Reg lowering himself to him. It was too late, he thought. It was too damn late.

And then, a gunshot rang out, and another one and another. Lucas collapsed on top of Daryl. Time sped up to a normal pace. The iron tinge of blood filled Daryl's senses and he waited to see if he felt any pain from a bullet, but it wasn't him. It wasn't his blood. Lucas lay dead on top of him. More gunshots rang out. Daryl pushed Lucas off of him and looked up to see the boy, now wearing the bloody shirt of the fat man, walking towards Reg, firing one shot after another, slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to see each bullet hit its target. Reg fell to the ground and the boy kept approaching, pumping bullets into him. He was taking his revenge, something Daryl had never had the opportunity to do. The boy kept advancing, pulling the trigger, but the gun only made a clicking sound. It was out of bullets. Daryl got to his feet and went to the boy, taking him by the shoulders.

"It's over. You got them. They're dead," he said, taking the empty gun from his shaking hands. The boy collapsed to his knees and curled into a fetal position. Daryl looked at Reg, pumped full of holes, bleeding. "You gave him what he deserved," he said to the boy.

Daryl went to Aaron, and checked him first. He was barely conscious. "Hey, Aaron. Hey, it's me. It's over."

"Daryl," Aaron said with relief.

"We gotta get out of here," Daryl said as he untied Aaron's arms. "Those shots are going to bring company any minute." As soon as he said it, he heard the growling. Walkers.

"How many are left?" Aaron asked as Daryl yanked the loose pants up, giving Aaron back some of his dignity.

"It wasn't a very big camp. Probably a few left out on the perimeter, but they'll be dealing with walkers by now." He thought about the men he'd killed, the ones that would be up and moving again soon. It all happened so fast and at the same time, Daryl was sure they wouldn't have to worry about the rest of Reg's men. They'd have their hands full just trying not to get bit. "We gotta go. Can you walk?"

"Yeah," Aaron said, stumbling. "I think so."

Daryl wrapped Aaron's arm around his shoulder, allowing himself to be the man's crutch. He glanced back at the boy. He was staring down at Reg's dead body. "Come on, kid, unless you want to get stuck between someone's teeth."

"It was him," the boy whimpered. "It was him the first time, before the guy in the barn."

Daryl's heart pained him, and he paused before leading them out of the camp. "He's dead now. You killed him. He'll never hurt you again." Except in dreams, Daryl thought to himself. He knew it wasn't really over for the boy. His nightmare was just beginning, but at least he had the satisfaction of knowing Reg couldn't hurt him again. In time, maybe he'd be ok, but it would take a lot to get past it, and he'd never forget. This was Daryl's experience anyways.

They made it out of the camp. Daryl had his weapons back. He had Aaron and the boy. They hadn't had to deal with too many walkers. The sounds of the few remaining men in the camp and the gunshots was enough to draw them there. It gave these three the chance to get away. Finally, they made it back to the place where they hid the car and the bike. Daryl was going to leave his bike behind, drive the car because he didn't' think Aaron was in any condition to drive, but Aaron insisted it was alright. They didn't argue about it long. Right now, he just needed to get everyone to the safety of the cabin, and it was a long way from here.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 Confessions of a Damaged Man**

They had a harrowing experience at the camp, and they made it out alive. Now, they were safe at the cabin. Daryl helped the boy inside, and gave him some clean clothes to change into. While he dressed, Daryl went to the kitchen. His adrenaline was still pumping aggressively through his veins. His emotions were a mixture of hate, fear and disgust. Some bad shit went down back there. One man he was able to save, but the other, the boy, would have a long road of recovery before him as another victim of rape. Sick bastards. He didn't want anyone to have to go through the terrors that he'd experienced as a youth. Yet, it was too late for the boy. If only he'd gotten to the barn sooner. Daryl wanted someone to blame besides himself. If only Aaron hadn't disobeyed him in the first place, then maybe they wouldn't have been in that situation. As these thoughts shot through his mind, Aaron entered the kitchen. His face was raw, one eye blackened, and a cut on his forehead. He looked like he'd just gone a few rounds in the ring. He wouldn't be like this if he'd just done what he was told. Daryl needed to take out his fury on someone. Unfortunately, Aaron was his only target.

Daryl watched Aaron retrieve a dish towel, wet it in the sink and hold it to his eye. He looked like hell, but this didn't stop Daryl from scolding him. "Why didn't you listen to me back there?"

"I wasn't going to leave you behind. You should know me better than that by now."

"I had things under control," Daryl argued.

"Oh really? Because from my point of view–"

Daryl slammed his fist on the counter, cutting him off. "I was in control until you came flying out from nowhere and jumped that guy. You could have gotten us all killed."

"But we made out," Aaron yelled back.

Daryl paced the kitchen, needing to punch something. He tried to calm himself, but his anger was getting the better of him. "And what the hell were you thinking, antagonizing that guy like that? I told you they were dangerous."

"I knew I needed to make a diversion, and there was nothing else I could do," Aaron explained.

"So you pissed him off to the point of getting yourself–" Daryl couldn't finish the sentence. He couldn't say the word. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "For God's sake, Aaron, when I got there and saw you tied to that car . . ." Again, he couldn't verbally finish his thought.

Aaron plopped down on a stool and hung his head. "I'm alright, Daryl."

They were silent for a few more minutes before Daryl spoke again. "Are you sure? Did … uh … did he–"

"No," Aaron said sharply.

"Thank God for that," Daryl said with relief.

"What about the boy?" Aaron asked.

Daryl shook his head and whispered, "He wasn't so lucky."

"Shit," Aaron said, closing his eyes and turning from Daryl. "Which one?"

"When I found him, that fat bastard was–" Daryl stopped and paced the room again. "Before that, it was Reg."

"We have a counselor back in town. She'll talk to him, work with him," Aaron suggested.

"A counselor? You think he can just talk to some shrink and poof, he's cured?" Daryl said with anger.

"Of course not," Aaron scowled with furrowed brows. "But it's a start."

Daryl was across the room in only a couple strides, right in Aaron's face, but the man didn't flinch, didn't back down. "That boy is gonna be messed up for the rest of his life. He can talk to the Pope. He ain't never gonna forget that. That's something dark. It gets under your skin, flows through your veins. It makes you wake up screaming in the middle of the night. You see something or smell something, and like a trigger, you're right back there, trapped in time."

Aaron's face softened as he watched Daryl seethe, studying his features. "It happened to you, didn't it?"

Daryl had shown his hand. He'd tried so hard to keep anyone from knowing this about him. Beth was the only person he'd ever told. He trusted her with his secret, and she took it with her to the grave. Didn't he trust Aaron, though? Or would he try and make Daryl talk to that shrink back in Alexandria?

"Daryl?" said the boy from the kitchen door.

Daryl turned from Aaron, abandoning their conversation, and went to the boy. For the first time, Daryl got a good look at him. He was young and skinny like most boys his age, brown hair, brown eyes, just the average seventeen year old teenager. "What's your name?" Daryl asked. The boy look at him strange. "You never told me your name."

"It's Caleb."

"Well, Caleb, you know you're safe here, right?" Daryl asked, and he nodded. "That place is a long way from here. No one is going to hurt you."

"Yeah," Caleb said sadly.

"Good. Why don't you try to get some sleep? You can take one of the spare rooms," Daryl said, leading Caleb back into the living room.

"Actually, I'd rather sleep out here on the couch. I don't really want to be alone," Caleb said. He still looked terrified.

"Whatever you want, Caleb," Daryl said. "I'll get a pillow and some blankets." He started to leave, but Caleb stopped him.

"Where will you be?" he asked.

Daryl pointed to the opposite side of the living room. "My room is right over there, but I ain't going to sleep any time soon."

"Can you just kind of hang out here until I fall asleep?" He sounded like a small child who'd just had an awful dream.

"Sure." Daryl left him to get the extra blankets. When he came back, Caleb helped him spread the bedding over the couch. Caleb laid down, and Daryl observed him a moment. The poor kid was really keeping it together after what he'd just been through. "You alright?"

"For now," Caleb said, his eyes never leaving Daryl as he laid down. Daryl covered him with a blanket.

"I'm gonna check on Aaron, and I'll be right back," Daryl said, and Caleb nodded.

He went back to the kitchen, and found Aaron still holding a wet rag over his eye. Daryl went up to him, and without a word, took the rag and started cleaning the dried blood from Aaron's face, which didn't look as bad once the dirt and blood came away. Aaron didn't move, and just let Daryl take care of him.

Eventually, Aaron smiled a bit. "You should see the other guy," he joked. "I've always wanted to say that."

Daryl huffed a laugh, and continued wiping the blood from Aaron's face. He felt bad about their previous conversation. He had let his anger get the best of him. "Sorry I yelled at you. I know you were just trying to help. Actually, that was a selfless and brave what you did back there. You put yourself out there for us, and I admire that. I haven't met too many people that would do that, especially for me."

"It was a last resort. You said one of us needed to be free, and I knew it had to be you. I knew you'd find a way." The swelling was beginning to go down a bit in his bad eye. The cool water seemed to be helping. "How's the kid?" Aaron asked.

"Caleb," Daryl informed him. "He's doing alright for now. Asked me to keep watch over him. I said yes."

"He's bonding to you. You saved his life, and he feels a connection with you."

"That's alright. He needs all the security he can get right now. I don't mind."

Aaron smiled at him. "This is a side of you I've never seen before."

"I do have a soul, you know," Daryl jested in return.

Aaron got quiet, the smile fading from his face. Daryl continued caring for him, but he could sense Aaron's unease. "That guy, Reg, he was going to . . ." Aaron's words faded, but the fear in his eyes spoke volumes.

"I know. I was there, remember?" Daryl threw the rag in the sink. "When I saw you tied up I thought I'd failed. I thought I was too late. I knew what those sick bastards were capable of, and it killed me to think that they … did something to you."

Aaron put his hand on Daryl's shoulder. "They didn't. You were just in time."

Daryl shook his head. "It wasn't me, though. It was the kid. He was the one who saved us. He shot both Reg and Lucas."

"It doesn't matter," Aaron whispered. "The important thing is that we got away. We made it out alive again. You're here. I'm here. We got the boy out."

"Daryl!" Caleb called from the living room. Both men ran out of the kitchen. The boy was sitting up, looking over the back of the couch, fear dressing his wide eyes. "I'm sorry. It was too quiet. I thought you left or something."

Daryl glanced at Aaron, who nodded and went to his room. Daryl went to the couch and sat next to Caleb. "I'm sorry," the boy apologized again.

"It's alright. I'm not going anywhere. Get some sleep," Daryl said, and Caleb laid down with his head on Daryl's lap.

After a while, Caleb was deep in dreams, and Aaron came from his room, dressed in a pair of loose pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He said he'd found them in a drawer in the spare room. He also held a bottle of whiskey in his hand, something he found stashed in a back room. Daryl eased Caleb's head from his leg, replacing it with a pillow. The boy didn't even stir. Then he took the bottle Aaron offered and drank from it. Earlier, Aaron had started a fire in the hearth. Now it was crackling and sending a warm glow across the room. It felt good. It felt safe again.

Daryl abandoned the winged chairs next to the fireplace for a seat on the thick fur rug, and watched the flames lick at the sides of the hearth. Aaron came over and joined him, and the men sat facing each other, sharing the whiskey as they passed the bottle back and forth.

"Want to talk about it?" Aaron asked after Daryl was relaxed and internally warmed by the whiskey.

"I only ever told one person, and she's dead now," Daryl said.

"It's not a curse, if that's what you're thinking."

Daryl actually wanted to tell Aaron his story. Maybe that's what he'd longed for all this time, but he chose to stay quiet and aloof. Still, Aaron made him want to be free of his past. He didn't judge. He just wanted to understand Daryl better, and perhaps Daryl needed at least one person in his life that knew all his secrets. After all, he'd told him about his bigoted family, and Aaron was still his friend.

"I was probably about fifteen, already in and out of trouble, following along in my brother's boots, you know. My dad didn't have time to deal with me, or at least that's what he said. He had all the time in the world, he just didn't want to. He said it was time to direct my mischief and put it to good use. It was time I learned how to be a good lookout."

"A lookout for what?" Aaron asked.

"My dad was a smuggler, mostly moonshine, but there was other stuff too, drugs, exotic animals, and stolen merchandise to name a few. It didn't matter what it was, he could get it to anyone from anywhere. He had a whole system set up involving multiple family members, mainly his brothers, some cousins, and a few close friends. One guy, Jay, was my dad's best friend. They grew up together, knew each other since they were in their mom's bellies, that kind of thing. My dad trusted him more than his own blood. So when it came time to break his sons into the business, he sent us to Jay, mainly because my dad didn't have any patience for us.

Jay was young, maybe about twenty four, twenty five. He was a great guy. He was cool, you know? Every kid my age wanted to be like Jay. He was muscled and tan, blonde hair slicked back on the sides and spiked on top. Women flocked to him wherever he went. And he had one of the sexiest bikes you ever saw. Sure, he had his bad moments, and you never double crossed him or he'd fuck you up beyond repair, but I'd rather hang with him than my old man. So he took me in and started teaching me the simple things about the business while I played lookout for moonshine pick-ups and deliveries."

"Where was your brother during this time?" Aaron asked out of curiosity.

"He was in juvie for about the hundredth time," Daryl reminisced. "He didn't know I was working with Jay, not that it would have mattered. Jay was like an older brother to us. We trusted him like family. Anyways, I was spending a lot of time with him, learning the ropes. And then I remembered he told me that if I was going to help move moonshine, I'd need to know the product personally. We got so wasted on the stuff. It was the first time I really got drunk. Well, as you know, that shit is like truth serum, and Jay started asking me things like, had I screwed a girl yet, kissed a girl, touched a titty, stuff like that. I told him the truth that I hadn't really even thought about it. We laughed, he made fun of me, and then the conversation turned. He slowly started bringing up things about guys, about getting excited when I saw a man with no shirt on, or wearing tight pants. But he asked me in such a way that it didn't seem out of the ordinary. Jay was a master at manipulation, but I didn't know it at the time. He'd say, it's ok if you've had those thoughts before. Every guy has them at least once, especially at my young age. And as it turned out, I had, but I didn't say anything, and I just thought it was nothing. Jay played on that though, talked about it more and more, asked me what I saw that caught my attention, how I reacted, had I ever thought of it again. He opened up my awareness, and suddenly, I was feeling very self-conscious about it. I told him I felt bad about my thoughts, and that my dad had taught me it was unnatural for men to be attracted to each other. Jay made it ok though, the way he directed the conversation. Eventually, he encouraged it, and it escalated into something very dark that he was in control of. He told me the only way to get these feelings out of my system so that I could lead a normal life, was to act upon them, to find out first hand that it was more fantasy than reality. He said he could help me alleviate my lustful thoughts when I was ready."

"And you trusted him," Aaron said sadly.

Daryl nodded in agreement. "It was a couple weeks later. We were in his garage. He was working on his truck, and I was looking for something to do. There was a sink with a leaky faucet he'd been complaining about earlier. Said he'd meant to fix it but he was busy working on his truck. I told him I'd look at it. I was laying down under the sink, tightening the pipes with a wrench, looking for other problems. I always wanted to be a help to Jay, make him proud of me. I heard him walk over, and saw him crouched down beside me. I glanced at him quickly. He had … dirt under his nails, black grease on his hands and arms, and I thought, I needed to get this finished so he could wash up. He started praising me, telling me what a good job I was doing. My shirt had traveled up, exposing my stomach. He said something about how mature I looked for my age. That's how it began … a touch on my knee, fingers traveling up my thigh that eventually started making circles on my stomach. I felt awkward at first, but I didn't complain and he kept going. I felt his fingers undo my belt, heard the zipper come down, felt my flesh exposed to the warm air of the garage. I said his name, but I didn't know if I was saying it to make him stop or to make him continue. He shushed me, told me to keep quiet and relax, and kept going. He fondled me at first, and then he … he … did things to me, and I … kind of … liked it, so I let him. When he was through, he smiled and said how good I was. He told me all kinds of encouraging things to boost my ego, make me think I did something good, and I thought, how could that be? All I did was lay on the floor half way beneath a sink while he … you know … palmed me, beat me off. Then he seduced me some more, led me to this old dirty mattress in the corner of the garage, said all the right things, touched all the right places. I thought he was going to do the same thing he'd just done to me, but he told me to lay on my stomach this time. He said he'd be gentle. He said he'd show me the right way to do things. But then he got rough, and I got scared. He held me down, forced me into position. I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen. He became some crazed lunatic, called me a tease, said I was a worthless piece of shit who had it coming to him. I struggled, but his grip tightened. I can still feel his weight upon me sometimes, pushing me into the mattress, constricting my lungs. Then, he … you know … just … bam, no warning. I was crying and he kept telling me to shut up and take it like a man. I thought I would die as he ripped me apart. And then I heard that leaky faucet. Drip, drip, drip, like a steady drum keeping time. I focused on it just to keep from feeling the pain and humiliation Jay was forcing upon me. Not long before that, the water dripping had been soothing and pleasant. Now it sounded like the devil's cadence, marching me into some kind of hell on earth. Finally, it was over. I didn't dare move as Jay got up and pulled his pants up. He warned me never to say anything to anyone, but especially to my dad. He reminded me what my dad thought of men who did this kind of thing to each other. He said he knew my dad better than I did, and he wouldn't treat me any different than any fag on the streets. If he kicked me out of the house, that would be a blessing compared to what my dad would really do. I had no reason not to believe him. I'd seen my dad get violent enough times to know he didn't distinguish between blood kin and strangers when it came to his beliefs. If he knew what happened, he'd kill me just as easily as he would kill Jay."

"But he raped you," Aaron said. "Wouldn't your dad trust your word if you told him Jay forced himself upon you? He'd probably kill Jay, but it wasn't your fault."

"I didn't want what happened to me on that dirty mattress, but what happened when I was under the sink, all the stuff I let him do to me that led to that horrible moment … well … I-I wanted it. It felt good. It felt … normal. I let Jay get me off, and I liked it. I wanted more. And I'd never felt so sure and alive about anything in my life. I went willingly with Jay to the mattress. I did everything he told me to do because I wanted him. That was enough for me to know that my father would have done much more than disown me. He hated fags with a passion, and he would rather have seen me dead than to know I liked dick. It was my fault what happened. I shouldn't have let Jay touch me to begin with."

"That's not true. He seduced you. He used you. He broke your trust and then threatened you with your father's rage. My God, Daryl, how did you go on? How did you deal with seeing Jay after that?" Aaron asked.

"I didn't have to. Next day, Jay split town, and no one ever saw or heard from him again." Daryl took a deep breath and looked at Aaron, about to reveal something that even he hadn't had the guts to say out loud. "I was so confused. Jay made me want it, and I liked it at first, but I got scared. I changed my mind and didn't want what he did to me on the mattress. I didn't want that kind of intimacy. And when he raped me, it hurt. He hurt me physically and mentally. So did I change my mind because I realized I was straight and didn't want to have sex with another man or was I scared to learn that I really was gay? Even now, I'm still not sure if these feelings are real or was it me just reliving something that happened to me. Whenever I get a … you know … an urge, I feel that mattress, and I hear that leaky faucet. I smell Jay's scent all over me. I-I don't know who I am. I don't understand these urges, and I'm not sure they are mine or a bad memory." There was a lump in Daryl's throat choking him with desperation to understand, for someone to tell him he wasn't crazy.

"H-have you ever … been with anyone besides Jay?" Aaron asked carefully.

Daryl looked down and away, shaking his head. "I'm afraid."

"Are you afraid someone will force you–"' Aaron started to say to make him understand that this was a delicate situation.

"No," Daryl interrupted. "I'm afraid I'm the abomination that my family taught me to hate, to laugh at and make fun of. I'm afraid I'm broken beyond repair."

"Hey," Aaron scolded. "You are not an abomination. Look at me, Daryl." He took Daryl's chin in his fingers, turning his face so their eyes met. "You know me and you know what I am. Do I look like some kind of freak to you? Do I act like some pansy ass weakling?"

Daryl shook his head. "You know who you are. You always have."

"And so will you." Aaron shifted so he was sitting next to Daryl. "I can't tell you who you're supposed to be. That's something you have to figure out on your own, but whoever that is, you're still the same person I met a few months ago, and you'll still be the same person after you've come to terms with your life. Whether you like men or women, that doesn't matter. You are Daryl. You're strong, smart, a good judge of character, a wicked fighter, a best friend, and someone I'm glad came into my life. There's no one I'd rather be out here with."

Daryl dared to let a smile turn the corner of his mouth. "Thanks man."

"Sure," Aaron smiled back.

Daryl glanced at the couch where Caleb was still sleeping. "I guess I better try to get some sleep while he's out. You need to, too."

"I will, soon. I think I'll just hang out here a little longer."

"You want me to–"

Aaron smiled and shook his head. "No, you go on. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Daryl was surprised that Aaron wasn't more rattled than he was.

"Yeah," Aaron whispered. "I've got a good nurse," he joked, gesturing to his eye.

Daryl got up from the floor and stood still a moment. He didn't really think he needed to mention it, but just to be clear. "You know that what I told you–"

"My lips are sealed. I'd never tell another living soul," Aaron said, pretending to lock his lips with an invisible key.

"Thanks for listening," Daryl whispered.

"Anytime, Daryl. I'm always here for you."

* * *

Daryl was sleeping, but lightly. He'd left his bedroom door open just in case Caleb called to him in the middle of the night. The boy had been through something horrific. Daryl could relate. He knew what it was like in the days that followed his assault, and Caleb's had been more violent, he guessed.

He awoke when he sensed a presence standing just inside the doorway, and thought it was Caleb. He was shocked to see that it was Aaron. Daryl sat up on one elbow and stared at him through the dark. "Aaron? You ok?" He could hear Aaron's rapid breathing. "What's wrong?"

"It's … I-I … I can't sleep," Aaron stammered, clearly shaken up. "It just … I … I don't want to be alone."

"Yeah, ok. Come on in," Daryl offered.

Aaron came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Daryl. "I thought I was ok, but … but … damn it, he almost raped me, and I can't shake it."

"You wanna talk?" Daryl asked.

"I had a dream. Actually, I'm not so sure it was a dream, but rather a memory. I was back at their camp, tied to the car, being stripped of my dignity. I feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck. I feel his hands fumbling with my fly, and his fingertips touching my skin." Aaron paused, but when he spoke again, Daryl heard the quiver in his voice. "He put his hands all over me. It was awful. I felt so violated."

"He was a monster, and he got what he deserved. He won't hurt you again … ever," Daryl soothed.

Aaron turned his head to look at Daryl. "And neither will Jay."

"I don't suppose he will. I sure as hell hope walkers took care of him," Daryl admitted.

"I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries," Aaron said, looking around the room.

"No, it's fine. You can't control your dreams."

"I know, but … I'm sorry, this is ridiculous." Aaron started to get up, but Daryl stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

"Hey, no. No it's not. You went through something horrible." Daryl sat up and moved so he was leaning against the headboard. Aaron glanced over his shoulder and didn't hesitate to join him. They sat in the silent darkness of Daryl's room, each man's ghosts haunting him.

Finally, Aaron spoke. "I'm such a douchebag."

"About what?" Daryl asked.

"Look at me. So, some guy unzipped my pants and touched my dick. And here I am crying on your shoulder, when it's you and Caleb who are the real victims. I feel like such a … a–"

"Pansy ass weakling?" Daryl finished for him, referring to an earlier comment Aaron made that he found funny. "It's not about what happened to who or how far things went. The fact is, you were harassed. Your personal space was violated, and that's enough to scare the crap out of anyone."

"I'm still a douche," Aaron commented under his breath. "I don't know why you put up with me sometimes."

"Because you're my friend. Because I like you … and I … I-I care what happens to you," Daryl admitted. He lifted his eyes, looking through his long hair to find Aaron watching him carefully.

"I … like you too, Daryl," Aaron said, but there was something more in his tone. He laid his hand on the bed between them and slowly opened it, palm up, making an offer.

Daryl stared at his strong hand. How many times had it saved him? How many times had it comforted him with a pat on the back or a tight grip to his shoulder? How many times had he pushed away the thought of that hand touching him gently? Before he thought too much about it, Daryl placed his fist within Aaron's hand, and very slowly spread out his fingers. When he looked at Aaron again, he was smiling contentedly. Suddenly, Daryl was reminded of the horse they found. It was wildly stomping and thrashing around in the field, scared of Daryl as he approached it. But it was with a gentle palm that he calmed the wicked beast, just before all hell broke loose.

"Daryl! Daryl!" Caleb called desperately from the living room. Daryl jerked his hand from Aaron's, and instantly, Caleb was standing in the doorway, crying. "Make him stop," Caleb whimpered. "Make him go away."

Daryl patted the bed, inviting the boy to come to him. Aaron got up and Caleb took his spot. The boy curled up to Daryl, tears staining his young face. He was older than Daryl was when he was raped, seventeen, almost a man, but that made no difference. Even a grown man who had been through what Caleb had experienced would behave in the same manner.

He held him a while, until the boy began to calm. Then Daryl told him to get under the covers and go back to sleep. Caleb moved over to the other side of the bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin. While Daryl was taking care of Caleb, Aaron had found extra blankets and pillows, and spread them on the floor next to Daryl's side of the bed.

"Guess we'll all just stay in my room for tonight," Daryl commented. He really didn't mind.

Once he was sure Caleb was asleep again, he reached down with his arm, hand extended. Aaron took it and held it until Daryl was sleeping. Then he, too, took his rest for the night.

* * *

The next morning they were all up by first light. Everyone seemed to sleep sound the rest of the night. Today, Daryl and Aaron had a lot of questions for Caleb. First of all was to find out if he was with a group. Secondly, they'd need to decide whether to look for the rest of them or take Caleb to Alexandria first.

Daryl found some canned corned beef hash, and already had it heating over a fire. Caleb was washing up in the bathroom. Aaron came out of the house and joined Daryl at the fire pit, watching him stir their breakfast. His countenance held an air of easiness, specifically around the eyes. Daryl hadn't seen him so relaxed before, especially when just last night he was anguished by nightmares.

"You seem chipper this morning," Daryl teased him.

"Survived another one," Aaron smiled.

"Yep," Daryl agreed, knowing how important that was these days.

"You talk to Caleb yet?" Aaron asked, taking the spoon from Daryl and stirring the pot.

Daryl wiped his hands on a towel and glanced back at the house. "No, I was waiting for you. Figured two brains were better than one."

The food was heated through. Aaron took the towel and wrapped it around the pot's handle. Daryl followed him into the house and set out plates and forks. Aaron dished the food out and Daryl grabbed a couple beers.

"For breakfast?" Aaron complained.

"You ain't never had corned beef hash and beer before?" Daryl jostled. "Well, lawd that was the special down at the dinner." He made his southern drawl come out heavy as he joked around, making Aaron laugh. "People come from far and wide for Betty's corned beef hash and beer."

"I bet they did, or was it Betty they were coming for?" Aaron smiled wiggled his eyebrows.

"You's catchin' on boy," Daryl said, continuing with his impression of a country bumpkin.

"I kind of like the accent. You should do it more often," Aaron laughed.

"Hey guys," Caleb said as he came into the kitchen.

"Just in time. Breakfast is served," Aaron said, escorting him to the table.

"Courtesy of Betty," Daryl added.

"What?" Caleb asked, confused by everyone's light mood.

"Never mind," Daryl said, dropping the accent. "Just eat up. I'm sure you're starving."

Caleb took a bite of the hash and didn't seem to mind, but he eyed the can of beer. "Is this all you have? I don't like beer."

Daryl and Aaron stared at Caleb and then looked at each other. They gasped and covered their mouths with their hands, mocking surprise.

"Did he just say that?" Daryl asked, fanning himself with the towel.

"Clearly he's never been to Betty's and had the breakfast special," Aaron said. Both men started laughing uncontrollably. Caleb ate, but kept a skeptical eye on them.

"What's wrong with you two this morning?"

"Absolutely nothing," they said simultaneously. The laughter died down, and everyone finished up their breakfast. Aaron gathered up the dirty dishes and was washing them in the sink while Daryl took Caleb to the side and started talking to him.

"How you doing this morning, Caleb?" he asked gently in a more serious tone.

"Ok I guess," he answered. "I didn't have any more dreams last night."

"That's good, but if you do, never hesitate to wake me up, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks Daryl."

Aaron finished with the dishes and sat next to Daryl. Caleb sat across from them at the island in the kitchen. Daryl glanced at Aaron, signaling him to start the conversation. Aaron didn't hesitate. "So, Caleb, how did you meet these guys from yesterday?"

"It was a while ago. I was out looking for food and supplies. I came upon these two guys. They were friendly at first. We got talking and they told me they were in the trading business. They looked for people out scouring for stuff, found out what they were in need of, and made trades with them."

"What were you out looking for?" Daryl asked.

"That time I was looking for baby formula. One of the women in our group had a baby, and she was having trouble feeding it herself, you know, breast feeding," Caleb said.

"These guys make a trade with you?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah, they said they had it, but they were looking for batteries. I knew we had some, but I didn't know if they were any good or not. That kind of stuff is hard to come by anymore. We made the trade, but they only gave me a couple days' worth of food because I couldn't guarantee the batteries were any good. I told them I needed more food than that, and they started requesting trades of other stuff, things that I know our group didn't want to part with, stuff that helped us survive. We made a few more trades, but then it became too much so we stopped."

"So how did you end up in their camp?" Daryl wondered.

"Well, a while later, some of our people got sick. I mean real sick, you know? Like, they needed medicine," Caleb said. This raised some red flags with Daryl, and he wanted to know more about it, but he would let the boy finish telling his story first. "I told them I'd go out and look for something, but what I was really doing was looking for these guys again. I found them, told them what I needed, but they wanted something more than batteries to trade for medicine. They wanted weapons. They questioned me about what we had. I told them everything I knew of. They wanted the shotguns. I told them I didn't think I could get that. I was doing this without my people's knowledge, and I'd have to sneak out some of the less used weapons. These guys insisted on the shotguns and all the ammo, so I agreed. But I loaded up a duffle bag with a few hand guns, knives, axes, and a few boxes of shotgun ammo. I thought that would be good enough, and came up with a story about not being able to get the guns they wanted. They said I'd have to talk to Reg, their leader. He wasn't happy with me, and … you kind of know the rest."

"You said some of your people were sick," Daryl inquired. "What was wrong with them?"

"It started out like the flu or a really bad cold. Then it got worse. Two of them were bleeding, coughing up blood, that sort of thing. That's why I did what I did. They needed medicine more than we needed guns."

"How many people are in your group, Caleb?" Aaron asked.

"There's fifteen of us including the baby. We all came from different parts of Tennessee and Kentucky. Originally, we were going to D.C., but now we're just trying to survive, find a place we can settle for more than a week, you know?"

"You got any family in your group?" Daryl asked, taking his turn.

"My mom is with them. She's the reason I went looking for those guys again. She was getting sick when I left."

"We might be able to help if we can–" Aaron started to say, but Daryl stopped him.

"Can I talk to you a second?"

"Sure. Be right back Caleb," Aaron told him, and he followed Daryl to another part of the cabin, an office on the other side where Caleb couldn't hear their conversation. Once they were alone, Aaron gave Daryl a questioning look. "Why'd you pull me away?"

Daryl shook his head and looked dismal. "If he's right about this sickness, and I'm pretty sure he's not exaggerating, then there's no hope for those people."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've seen this before. This virus ran rampant through the jail," Daryl started to say.

"Jail? What jail?"

"I told you, me and my people had a place. It was jail. It worked for a while. We had a half way decent place to live. Then we let some outsiders in. Before we knew it, people started coming down with the sickness. It sounds just like the one Caleb is describing, and if so, those people are already dead."

"Your people survived it," Aaron argued.

"We went through hell to find medicine, and then we only had a small amount, enough to treat the ones that weren't too far gone. We lost a lot of people. The virus is very contagious and spreads quickly."

"What about Caleb? Could he have it? Are we at risk?" Aaron sounded very concerned.

"I did a quick calculation and enough time has passed that he would have been showing signs by now. We shouldn't risk it though. We need to get back to Alexandria, put ourselves in quarantine, and be absolutely sure we're clean."

"And if we're not?" Aaron asked.

"Then we need medicine. I'm sure you've got some there."

"We do, but I don't know what kind."

"Penicillin works as a preventative, I think."

Aaron nodded. "Yeah, we got that."

"Then we all need a dose. Before you show signs of being sick is when you're most contagious. Trust me, I dealt with this shit. It's pretty bad, but it is curable if you catch it in time."

"Crap," Aaron complained. "Just what we need after everything that's happened. Alright, well, I guess we know what we got to do. What are we going to tell Caleb about his mom, though?"

"I'll handle it." Daryl went back to Caleb, sat down, and discussed the virus and what was happening. Of course, the boy was upset. All he wanted to do was see his mom. Daryl tried to convince him it was a bad idea, but Caleb wouldn't hear of it. There was only one way to convince him.

"Where are your people, Caleb?"

"There's an abandoned warehouse not far from where the campsite is. That's where I was looking for food. A couple miles north of there is a small town. We're staying at an abandoned fire station."

"I don't like this one bit," Daryl warned. "But I think the only way to convince you is for you to see it firsthand."

"I just need to know before I leave them all behind. My mom's all I have left in this world," he sobbed.

Daryl sighed. "I'll tell you what. When we get there, and if she's well enough to travel back to our home, we'll treat here. I'm not making any promises though."

"She wasn't that sick when I left. You'll see, and then we can bring her with us to get better," Caleb said with enthusiasm. Daryl wouldn't get his hopes up.

He told Aaron what he was doing, but he was met with resistance. "You can't go in there, especially if they're all sick," Aaron argued.

"Think about it, Aaron. If you were seventeen and your mom was there, wouldn't you want to get back to her?" Daryl countered.

"You know if you take her and not the others, there's going to be trouble. I'm going too."

"I knew you'd insist, so I ain't gonna argue with you," Daryl said, rolling his eyes. "Come on then. Grab your guns and let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 Fevered Dreams**

The town was a small one, empty and cleaned out of anything useful. Aaron followed Caleb's directions and they found the fire station easily. It was barricaded off by typical walker deflecting objects. Daryl and Aaron got out of the car and carefully made their way towards the fence. The place seemed deserted, but Caleb told them that the people usually stayed inside, and only a couple scouts watched the perimeter. The two of them walked along the makeshift fence looking for signs of life but it seemed there weren't any. Daryl thought they were too late, and started to state the fact when he heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked.

"Drop your weapons," someone called out.

"We don't mean you any harm," Aaron called back.

"I said drop your weapons," the man repeated himself.

Daryl nodded at Aaron and they laid their weapons down on the street. They stood straight again, and Daryl spoke. "We've brought back one of your–"

"Mom!" Caleb yelled. He was supposed to stay in the car until it was safe, but he didn't listen. "Mom!" he yelled out again.

The door to the fire house flung open and a woman stood in the threshold. She had long brown hair and pale white skin. She looked very thin and fragile, but she searched desperately for her son. "Caleb?"

"Mom!" Caleb called again and he took off at a run. He got to the edge of the perimeter and was trying to find a way around the razor wire.

"Caleb, don't come any closer," demanded one of the lookouts.

Caleb wasn't listening. All he wanted was to get to his mother. His mother was telling him to stay back, too, but the boy was crying, obviously distraught and in need of a mother's touch after all he'd been through. Caleb paced the barricade, his clothes catching on the very sharp razors.

"Caleb, stop honey. You can't come in here. It's not safe," his mother warned.

"Why?" Caleb cried. "Mom, please. I need you."

His mother broke down and started crying uncontrollably while still telling him to stay away. "You can't come in honey. It's not safe. We're all sick, baby. I don't want you to get sick too."

"I don't care. I need to be with you. Mom, please," Caleb begged.

Daryl went toward Caleb to try and hold him back just in case he was going to break through the barricade. He put his arms around Caleb and told him to calm down.

Caleb was still calling out to his mother. "I'm sorry, Mom. I was only trying to help, but these men caught me, and they made me do things I didn't want to do."

Several more weapons clicked, ready to be fired, and a man called out. "Who the hell are you, and what did you do to the boy."

Aaron rushed to Daryl's side. "Whoa, whoa," Aaron said, holding his hands in the air to show he was unarmed. "I think there's a bit of confusion here. We didn't do–"

"Shut up and step away from him," one of the men demanded.

At that point, Caleb turned around and saw what was happening to Aaron and Daryl. All the men on perimeter watch had their guns trained on the pair. "Wait, no. It wasn't them," Caleb corrected. "They saved me. They brought me here. Please, they're ok. They're good."

One of the men, a black man wearing a blue plaid shirt and khaki pants, came forward, but he stayed on the other side of the wire. "The name's John. Who might you two be?"

"I'm Aaron, and this is Daryl. We have a camp about an hour from here. A few days ago, we were out looking for supplies when we came across these men. Said they wanted to do a trade for the stuff we needed."

Daryl saw what Aaron was doing. He was being very careful not to mention Alexandria. By mentioning Reg's men, he could establish some common ground with these people who had also had dealings with them.

"Yeah, I know who you're talking about. We stopped dealing with them, though. They were up to no good." The man, John, coughed at that point.

Daryl was very cautious. He took hold of Aaron's arm and pulled him back a little. John watched him with a scowl on his face. "We heard some of you were sick," Daryl called out.

"Yes, a lot more now than a few days ago," John admitted. "How is Caleb?"

"He's fine," Daryl said. "Or at least he's not sick."

"What do you know about this?" John asked.

"A group I was with a while back started coming down with similar symptoms as the ones Caleb told us about. We lost a lot of people," Daryl informed him.

"Looks like you survived. What did you do?" John asked.

Daryl glanced around as people started coming out of the fire house to see who the strangers were. All of them looked sickly. None of them looked like they could be saved. Even John was showing advanced signs of the virus. "I split before it got to me."

"Huh," John huffed cynically.

"Listen," Daryl said. "Caleb shouldn't come in there. He's showing no signs, and if he was sick, we'd know by now, according to what he's told us about the first of your people to get sick."

"I agree," John admitted.

"The boy just wanted to see his mother," Daryl went on. "But we can take him with us, at least until it's safe for him to join you all again." But Daryl doubted that would be the case.

"No, I don't want to leave. I just want to take care of my mom," Caleb argued.

"Caleb, there's nothing you can do," his mom said when she heard him.

"I'm not leaving you again," Caleb cried.

His mom went to John and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me talk to him, John, please."

John looked like he didn't want to agree to it, but eventually he nodded in compliance. "Alright, but keep a safe distance." The woman walked along the fencing and Caleb followed from the opposite side. She met him at a place where there was no possible way for him to get across. Daryl and Aaron watched the exchange.

"Why won't you let me in, Mom," Caleb asked.

"I'm sick, baby. I'm real sick. So are a lot of other people. Some of them have died. I don't want this to happen to you too," she told him.

"You're not going to die, are you?"

"I hope not." She smiled and it was obvious she wished she could touch her son. "Where were you, Caleb? Where did you go? I was so worried about you."

"I know you told me not to, but I went back to find those men and make a trade for some medicine to make you better."

"So it was you who took some of the guns and knives?" she asked gently.

Caleb nodded. "They wanted the shotguns, but I knew I couldn't give them those. I thought I could convince them to take the handguns and knives. They weren't happy with me, and they made me go with them to their camp." Caleb paused as tears began to well up in his eyes, spilling over his lower lashes, and falling down his cheeks.

The mother was crying now, and Daryl's heart was breaking for them both. She could tell something bad happened to her son. "Oh God, Caleb, what happened? What did they do to you?"

"I just wanted the medicine," Caleb said, crying. "I thought, if I just did what they told me, I'd get what I went there for, and then I could make you better."

Daryl couldn't take it. He went over to where they were and helped with the conversation. She didn't need to know what happened to her son. It was too late to change anything. It would just make her feel guilt. Daryl clasped a hand to Caleb's shoulder. "Your son is very brave, ma'am. If it wasn't for him, I'm not sure what would have happened back there. My friend and I were captured too, and Caleb helped free us." The last thing she needed to hear was that her son had been raped.

She smiled. "That's my boy, brave just like his daddy was."

Caleb turned to Daryl, hope dancing in his eyes. "Can she some with us?"

"Caleb," his mom said first. "I can't leave here. I'm sick."

"But Daryl said if you could make it to his camp, then he might could cure you," Caleb said. This sparked the attention of a few people standing close enough to hear the conversation.

"Do you have medicine?" his mom asked desperately.

Aaron glanced at Daryl. They hadn't wanted anyone to know about this. It could cause trouble. Aaron took over. "What we have isn't enough for everyone here."

"But you have enough for my mom, don't you?" Caleb asked desperately.

"Hey!" one of the residents shouted. "Why should she get it and not the rest of us?"

Daryl was instantly on his guard. This was about to explode into something unpleasant. He took a step backwards towards the place where he laid his bow. Aaron was still trying to explain. Caleb was still campaigning for his mom, and the crowd was beginning to gather at the gate, if you could call it that. The firehouse was surrounded by razor wire and other pointy objects, but where the people entered and exited was just a couple sawhorses with guards on either side. Daryl made a quick evaluation of all the people he saw. None of them looked unaffected by the virus. Most had dried blood around their noses and mouths. Whatever medicine they had back in the town was not what was needed to cure the disease, not at the stage it was at.

"Caleb, listen to me," his mom was saying. "You have a chance, sweetie. Stay with these men. They'll take care of you."

"No, Mom, I don't want to go without you," Caleb begged.

"It's too late for me, but you're not sick, and if you come in here, you will be."

A couple residents were still making a scene about medicine and Caleb's mom. She turned to them and told them she was not going, but the mob mentality was already firing up.

"Aaron," Daryl called. "I think we need to get going."

Aaron put a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "Listen to you mom. She only wants what's best for you. We have to go, Caleb. We're out of time."

Daryl stood with his bow and Aaron's gun at his feet, but he wasn't picking them up yet. As soon as he did, all hell would break loose, and they didn't have Caleb yet. "Aaron, let's go man."

"Just a second," Aaron called back, still trying to convince Caleb.

Daryl heard a scuffle at the gate and looked to see a rush of people pushing the two guards out of the way. There were too many of them. They couldn't be contained.

Aaron looked over and saw the same thing. Now he grabbed Caleb by the arm and started pulling him away from the fence. His mom was begging him to go with Aaron, crying as she did. Caleb was sobbing heavily and reaching for his mom. Daryl bent down to pick up their weapons, but as he stood up, a woman was grabbing him, pulling on his vest.

"Give me that medicine," she was demanding like a crazy person.

Daryl was trying to push her away, but he couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind, to shoot her if she threatened his life. "I don't have it. Get off me, lady."

"Give it to me. Give it to me now," she started yelling. Then she burst into a coughing fit and sprayed blood onto Daryl.

Instinct told him to push her away. He did, and she landed on the ground in a heap, coughing and throwing up blood on the street. Daryl was in shock as he looked down at himself. Blood was spattered all over the front of his shirt and vest. He lifted a hand and wiped his face. Blood was smeared on the back of his hand. Panic set in. He knew he'd been exposed.

Just then, Aaron ran up to him, and the fear in his eyes confirmed Daryl's suspicions. "Oh shit, Daryl," Aaron said.

"Get in the car!" Daryl demanded, tossing Aaron the keys. "You drive."

Aaron pulled Caleb along and forced him into the front seat. Daryl jumped in the back, and Aaron got in just in time. An angry mob of people were starting to pound on the windows. It was complete chaos. Why did he ever agree to this, Daryl thought to himself. There was a blanket in the back, and he wrapped it around his body, trying to contain the blood splatter to just himself. Lastly, he covered his mouth with a corner of the blanket. Aaron floored the gas pedal, and as the car sped off, people fell away. Daryl looked out the back window. Some of the people were still running after their car. Others just stood there in shock. And then he saw Caleb's mom, covering her face with her hands, crying as she watched the last of her family disappear. They were already dead, Daryl told himself. There was no saving any of them. Besides, they couldn't risk bringing that many diseased people to Alexandria, even if they had the cure. But as much as he tried to convince himself they were doing the right thing, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were helping these people to their graves. They wouldn't have graves, though. In a few day's time, they'd be up and walking again. Just more walkers to have to take down later on.

* * *

No one spoke the entire way back to the cabin. Aaron kept looking at Daryl in the rearview mirror, panic set in his eyes. Daryl stopped looking back miles ago. He didn't want anyone's pity. He didn't want anyone to know he was scared shitless, either.

They pulled up to the cabin, and Daryl jumped out of the car, still wrapped in the blanket. Aaron started to approach him, but Daryl put up a hand. "Stay away."

"Maybe it didn't get in your system yet. Maybe if you just wash up and–"

"A guy in our group had the same thing happen to him. He was dead in less than a week," Daryl told him.

"We need to get back to town," Aaron said urgently.

"Yeah, there's only one problem," Daryl said. "The car's almost out of gas. I noticed the gage on our way to the fire station. All our extra trips has cost us."

Aaron went back and looked. "Shit," he whispered.

"Listen, get Caleb in the house. Get him settled. Don't let him out of your sight in case he tries to run away or something," Daryl suggested.

"What about you?" Aaron asked.

"I have to stay as far from you all as I can. It's bad enough I was in the car with you."

"You can't stay outside."

"I'm not," Daryl said, looking towards the boathouse.

Aaron sighed. "This is screwed up. It wasn't supposed to go down this way."

"Yeah, and people weren't supposed to walk around after they died either, but it happened. I've gotten through a lot of shit. I'll get through this too. So get inside and get settled. Tomorrow morning, take my bike and go find some gas for the car."

"Or you could just jump on your bike and head for town now. I'll come along when I can," Aaron suggested.

"We all go together. I'm not leaving you out here alone."

Aaron was reluctant to the plan, but Daryl was more stubborn. Still, the worry in Aaron's eyes didn't help put him at ease. Aaron took Caleb inside, and Daryl made his way to the boathouse. He didn't go in the boat, where the remains of the previous owner were shut inside. Instead, he found a bucket, filled it with lake water and washed off. Then he removed his vest and shirt, wringing them out in a bucket of fresh water. When he had his clothes spread out to dry, Daryl closed himself in the boat house. Now all he could do was wait, and hope they got back to town soon.

A while later, there was a knock at the door. Daryl opened his eyes and saw Aaron standing outside. "You can't be here," he said.

"I know, but I thought you needed these." Under his arm, he held a pillow and blanket. In the other hand, Aaron held up half a bottle of whiskey from the other night. He sat it all by the door and stepped back. Daryl cracked the door open and took the bottle, pillow and blanket.

"Thanks," he said. "How's Caleb?"

"Cried himself to sleep. Poor kid. He's been through so much these last few days."

"He's young. He'll survive," Daryl said, taking a swig from the bottle.

"You're going to be ok," Aaron stated. "We're going to get you back to town, get you treatment, and get you well before you show any signs of being sick."

"If they have the right medicine," Daryl mentioned sounding skeptical. "You and Caleb will need to be quarantined too, but if there's only enough medicine for the two of you–"

"You are going to get it first. Listen, Caleb is showing no signs, and I'm fairly sure I'm ok too. Odds are, we weren't exposed. If anyone needs treatment, it's you," Aaron demanded. "You have to get better, Daryl. You just do, ok? B-because I … I need you to."

Daryl sat with his back leaning against the door. He knew Aaron was sitting the same way on the opposite side as they talked. Maybe it was because they weren't face to face, or because there was a chance Daryl wouldn't make it through this time, but he was able to speak openly and honestly now. "Why, Aaron? Why me? What is it you see in me?"

"You're different from anyone I've ever met, and I think that makes you like me. Don't you feel it? We share something, some kind of connection. We have from the moment we first met," Aaron confessed.

He didn't answer at first, afraid to admit it, but finally he did. "I felt it," Daryl whispered. "And it scared the hell out of me." He drank deep again, the sloshing of the whiskey the only sound.

Aaron huffed a laugh. "The only thing I was scared of was you shooting me. Remember?"

Daryl laughed too. "I remember. Hunting rabbits, you said. You were following me, plain and simple. You never fessed up to it either."

"Alright fine," Aaron admitted. "Yes, I was following you. Deanna asked me to keep an eye on you. You're the only one she couldn't really read, not like the rest. I told her I'd figure you out."

"Got more than you bargained for," Daryl said.

"I think I found just what I've been looking for." Aaron was quiet and so was Daryl. It was hard work, opening up and expressing their feelings. Daryl still felt the need to keep closed off to a point, but Aaron was good at getting him to feel, and that's something no one had ever done to him before.

"You don't want me," Daryl said somberly. "I'm damaged."

"Maybe you were at one time. Maybe you were going to be if the world hadn't been flipped upside down. Did you ever think of what your life would be like if none of this ever happened? So, ok, for a lot of people it didn't turn out well when everything changed. They're lives were good, and now they're roamers. Where do you think you'd be today if the apocalypse never happened? You told me a little about your family and where you came from, so here's what I think. You'd be in and out of jail. You'd be smuggling illegal goods, running the family business, living the kind of life you never wanted but were born into, and doing it because you could never be yourself. You never would have met all the people you've met, befriending some who you never would have been friends with in your past life. We definitely would never have met."

Daryl laughed. "That's the truest statement of the year."

"Here's how I see it. People are like dice sitting on a flat surface, square, always staying on one side, forced to sit with the dice we were placed next to. And then Mother Nature threw us all into a cup, shook it, and spilled us out again. A lot of us landed on a different side of ourselves. Most of us came to rest next to someone we'd never met before. Granted, some landed on the same side. There are those who will never change."

"Yeah, my brother was one of those," Daryl said. "So what's your point?"

"We all got shuffled and ended up somewhere different. When we tumbled out of the cup, we ended up near each other, putting us on our new path. We landed on a different side, and became different people. I think it was for the best for both of us, and I like where I landed."

"You've got an odd way of looking at things, but I get it, and you're probably right. My future was looking kind of bleak before the outbreak. And I have been able to be a better person, to become friends with people I never would have been allowed to speak to before … because of my family, and their screwed up views."

"So don't be afraid to explore new and different avenues. Don't let the ghosts of your past dictate your future. You don't have to be that person anymore. Embrace your new side because it's not damaged," Aaron advised.

"And how should I do that?" Daryl was curious to know what Aaron thought.

"Well, for one, when all this is over … when we're all cleared of this virus, you could … y-you could move back into the house … with me."

"Oh," Daryl said, surprised by the offer. "Yeah, that's one way, I guess, but what about Eric?"

"Eric's made his choice. He gave me an ultimatum. I chose to do my job, and he chose to move out."

"And so just like that, after two years, it's over? Nothing is ever that simple, Aaron."

"And no one forces me into a corner," Aaron countered. "Do you know why Eric didn't want me going on runs with you? He didn't think you cared what would happen to me. He thought that if things went bad, you'd leave me behind just so you could get away."

"I could have. You didn't know me from a hole in the ground. I didn't know you either," Daryl countered to make a point, but Aaron wasn't through.

"Remember what I told you that day you caught me following you in the woods? I said you knew the difference between a good person and a bad one, and I knew you'd never leave a good person behind, because you haven't met many good people in your life. Someone who is damaged, as you claim to be, can't make that judgement. You're not damaged, Daryl, not in my eyes. You have scars, but who doesn't? You just need someone who can look past the scars and still see the beautiful person you are."

What could he say? Daryl never had anyone read him in this way. He'd been called a lot of things throughout his life, but beautiful definitely wasn't one of them. It got uncomfortably silent, and then Daryl heard a rustle outside the door.

"Well, I better get back to the house. I'll head out at first light, take Caleb with me, and hope to be on the road by midday," Aaron announced. "Try to get some sleep."

"Yeah, I will. And hey, thanks man."

"Sure."

* * *

Just as he said, Aaron was gone by sunrise, but not before setting some food by the boathouse door. Daryl ate, but he could feel the back of his throat getting scratchy. The first signs of the illness were showing. Next would be a runny nose and a cough. Then chills and fever escalating to nose bleeds and coughing up blood. Hopefully it wouldn't get that far.

To keep his mind of the bad stuff, Daryl considered Aaron's words of advice. How was it that someone like Aaron could see so deep into Daryl's soul, see the things that he'd hid from his whole life, pull them to the surface, stick them in front of him and say, look, this is the real you. Be this person for this is who you're meant to be. It was almost frightening to have someone see his secrets. It was terrifying to have someone say, I like you this way. But it was paralyzing to have someone tell him they wanted to be with him. Aaron wanted him to live in the same house. Daryl wasn't sure he could do that. He wasn't sure he wanted to. They could live as roommates, of course, but Aaron had made his feelings pretty clear. He was looking for something more, and Daryl wasn't sure he was capable of that. Yes, he'd felt urges, especially that night they all stayed in his room. He'd held Aaron's hand, simple enough, but still a very personal and submissive gesture. He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about kissing him, but usually, those thoughts were sent away quickly, driven off by the sound of a leaky faucet. Daryl was afraid to admit that the sound he heard was beginning to fade. It was still there, just not as loud. But to move in with Aaron would mean that eventually he would want to move another rung up the ladder. Daryl had never been in any kind of relationship. He didn't know the first thing about it. This was too much to think about, he finally told himself. Better to just concentrate on one thing at a time, and right now it was to get him back to Alexandria and get medicine.

Like clockwork, Aaron came back, driving Daryl's bike, but he was not alone. He was followed by Caleb, who was driving a box van, a very familiar one too. They must have gone back to Reg's camp and taken the van. That was smart thinking. It had been loaded with all kinds of supplies.

"Did you run into any trouble?" Daryl asked from the window of the boathouse.

"There were a few roamers, but nothing we couldn't handle," Aaron smiled, proud of his find. "And by some miracle, the tank is just about full. There's plenty to get us back to Alexandria and then some. I know how worried you are about spreading this, so I thought you could ride in the back. We'll make room and stick your bike back there too. Caleb can ride in the cab with me."

"Good idea," Daryl said, and then a cough hit his throat.

"It's already starting, isn't it?" Aaron said with concern.

"Started last night," Daryl informed him.

"No time to waste, then. Let me grab a few things from the house. We'll get your bike in the truck, and we'll be home in no time."

* * *

The ride back to Alexandria was uneventful, and they were there in just a couple hours. They stopped just outside the gate, and Aaron opened the back of the truck. Daryl closed his eyes to the blinding light. It was very dark in the van, and he felt like a vampire burning in the sun. Amongst the supplies were some towels. Daryl took one and covered his mouth with it, just to make sure he wasn't spreading any germs. From what he knew of this disease, it was spread through body fluids like saliva or blood. He had to be extremely careful. Something like this could move like wildfire.

"I'll wait out here," Daryl told Aaron. "You go in, explain our situation, and see what they want to do. Make sure Maggie knows. Her father was a doctor. He cured a lot of the patients from the jail. She helped him, and she'll remember whatever was in that concoction of meds they gave them."

Aaron nodded and ran in to get help. Caleb stayed with Daryl. He looked scared as he stared at the tall metal walls that surrounded the city. "I ain't never seen a place like this before. How did you find it?"

"We didn't. They found us," Daryl told him, remembering Aaron coming to the barn that the group had been staying in. He remembered his first impression of him, some nerdy guy with a backpack full of applesauce. He couldn't stop talking, making stupid jokes and getting the group scared instead of putting them at ease. Like some kind of savior, he came in with pictures of the town and promises of a safe haven in the chaos. Nobody believed him, Rick most of all. Earned him a right hook in the jaw, knocking Aaron unconscious.

That was the same night that Eric got hurt, when Aaron decided he didn't want him going on runs anymore. Daryl had almost forgot, but he was standing by the door where Eric was laid up, ankle wrapped in a cloth when Aaron pushed past him to get to his partner. He watched uncomfortably as they kissed feeling as though he was infringing upon their privacy. Aaron had been so worried and scared for Eric. And Eric, even though he'd come close to being zombie food, was still smiling and making lighthearted conversation. Perhaps Eric wasn't as weak as Aaron made him out to be. At least he knew enough not to appear upset in front of Aaron. Daryl also remembered hearing Eric tell Aaron he loved him, and noticed even more that Aaron said nothing back. He just smiled at him. It didn't mean anything to Daryl at the time, but now that Aaron had confessed his true feelings, it stuck out in Daryl's mind. Aaron cared for Eric, worried for him, wanted to protect him, but he didn't love him. Still . . .

"They're making a place for you to go to," Aaron said, coming around to the back of the truck. He was short of breath, must have ran back to the gate with his information. "They are going to quarantine you to a vacant house in one of the back lots. They're stocking it for you as we speak."

"What about Maggie? Did you find her?" Daryl inquired.

"Yeah, she's already putting medicine together. It's not what they had at the jail, but she thinks it will still work. It just might take a little longer. The fact that we got you here in the early stages will work to your advantage." Aaron smiled and looked as though he wished he could touch Daryl. "You're going to be alright."

"What about you and Caleb?" Daryl wondered.

"They're going to put us up in another house, start some meds, keep an eye on us, but Maggie doesn't think we're contagious. Looks like Caleb got away from his group before it spread to too many people. You were right. If he was sick, he would have shown signs by now. But they just want to be on the safe side." Aaron looked to the ground, shifting from one foot to the other. "I won't see you for a couple days. I have to stay in the house until they're sure, you know."

"Well, I won't be going anywhere," Daryl joked in his monotone voice.

Aaron looked up at Daryl through his lashes, the slightest curve of a smile on his lips. "No, you're not going anywhere. Nowhere at all."

The sound of people rushing up the road broke their private moment, and Daryl looked up to see all his people stopping at the open gate. Rick was first amongst them, Michonne and Carol next to him, followed by the rest of his crew. They all looked extremely worried. Most of them were at the jail when the outbreak occurred. They knew how dangerous and deadly a thing it was. They knew to keep their distance too.

"How'd it happen?" Rick asked.

"We found a survivor, Caleb. He came from a town where his people were living in an abandoned fire station. He left just as the virus was getting started. Aaron and I went to see if there was anything we could do, but they were all too far gone by then. Caleb's mom was among them. He mentioned medicine to her, some of the other people overheard and things got ugly. I was trying to get us out of there before we got rushed by a mob. One of them grabbed me, begging me to help her. She was coughing up blood, it got on me, and here I am."

"Damn it, Daryl," Rick berated.

Aaron stepped forward immediately. "Daryl was just doing his job, looking for survivors. He wasn't about to leave without knowing whether or not any of them could be saved."

The whole group looked at Aaron cautiously as he came to Daryl's defense so quickly. Carol was the first one to look back at Daryl, eyebrow raised questioningly. Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "It was a rough time out there. A lot of crap went down. I'll fill you all in later."

Everyone had questions, and Daryl answered them as best he could. He told them about Reg and his men, about their camp and the truck full of supplies. He told them about getting captured, and that Caleb had been raped without going into detail. He needed to tell Maggie, though, and have her see what she could do about having the boy start seeing the shrink in town. The one thing he didn't tell them about was the cabin by the lake. There was something sacred about that place, something he and Aaron shared that he didn't what anyone else to know. Aaron was smart enough to notice he didn't speak of it, and Daryl was confident he wouldn't tell anyone.

Eventually, Maggie came with Deanna. To his surprise, both women were dressed in hazmat suits. Suddenly, Daryl felt very self-conscious. He was a walking Petri dish of death, basically. He smiled, eyes narrowed and looking out from behind his long hair. "That's a new look for you," he said to Maggie.

She smiled through the plastic window over her face. "I thought it was a good outfit for the occasion."

"When the outbreak happened," Deanna explained, "some people took extra precautions. I found these in a doctor's house. Never needed them until now."

"Well, leave it to Daryl to find the mud and roll in it," Carol said. She smiled at Daryl, but the concern in her eyes couldn't be dismissed.

"Let's get you settled first, and then we'll take care of Aaron and Caleb," Maggie said.

Everyone backed away from the gate, giving Daryl a wide berth as he entered the town. Maggie and Deanna walked on either side of him as they escorted him down the streets to the house set up for his quarantine. Maggie asked him all kinds of questions about his health and any signs he might be showing. So far it was just a sore throat and a cough, but he could feel a fever coming on. On the way there, Daryl told Maggie about Caleb, and she assured him help would be swift. He asked about Aaron and what they would do for him and Caleb. She told him what procedure they had planned, but that she was fairly certain they were alright. Still, a dose of medicine and a brief stay in quarantine was needed. It would be a few days before he'd see either one of them.

The house they arrived at was a small one story, something meant for a retired couple. Daryl laughed to himself when he noticed the white picket fence. One way or another he was going to end up in a place like this. Some might think of it as heaven, but to Daryl it was some kind of suburbia hell. It didn't matter, it was temporary anyways.

Inside it was cozy with a living room, a kitchen and a hall that led to a bathroom and a bedroom. That was basically it, unusually small for the neighborhood, considering all the rest of the houses were some kind of mini mansions.

"You've got everything you need, food, toiletry items, clothes," Maggie said.

"How about booze?" Daryl asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Not with the medication. I'm going to give you your first dose now. Unfortunately, your symptoms will get worse before they get better, but this should help keep the virus from escalating to an irreversible level. If you need anything, you have a walkie talkie here. You can reach me anytime with it, ok?"

"I got it. I'll be fine, Maggie. Now go look after Aaron and Caleb while I get comfortable here," he suggested.

"You look tired," Deanna stated.

"Yeah, I'm going to lie down for a while," Daryl said. He started to go down the hall but stopped. "Can I have visitors? I mean, through the door or something?"

"There's a storm door on this house. Just keep the glass closed, and you should be able to communicate through it," Maggie told him.

"Better than nothing," he grumbled. He went into the bedroom, finding the bed already turned down. "What? No mint on my pillow?" he jested.

"I've never heard you joke around so much," Maggie commented. "You should get sick for often."

"I get like this when I'm nervous. Are you sure this is going to work?" he asked, taking on a more serious tone.

"You're going to be fine, Daryl. I promise," Maggie comforted.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, but I believe you."

Maggie injected Daryl with a concoction of medicine after he laid down on the bed. She finished up her instructions, and reminded him to use the walkie talkie if he needed it. Daryl's eyelids started getting heavy, and he was asleep before the women left the house.

When he woke up some time later, it was dark. He was confused and out of sorts at first, forgetting where he was. Then the chill hit him. He was running a fever and he couldn't stop shivering. He looked at the clock. It was late into the night. Daryl didn't want to wake Maggie just to tell her he had a fever. It was to be expected, and there was nothing she could do about it. The virus needed to take its course. He got up, used the bathroom, went to the kitchen for a glass of water, and made it back to the bedroom. Just that little bit of work wore him out, and he climbed back under the covers, pulling them up to his chin. His skin was hot, but he shivered with cold. Now all he could hope for was the fever to break.

Daryl went back to sleep, hoping the medicine would kick in soon. Not long after, he started dreaming. He was in Aaron's house, looking through every room, clearing them like he did whenever he entered a new place. There were no walkers. "All clear," he called out. Aaron and Eric came in through the front door, looking relieved to know their house was safe.

"I'll make us some tea," Eric smiled charmingly to Aaron. "I love you."

Aaron smiled, but said nothing in return. He just watched Eric disappear into the kitchen. When they were alone, Aaron came to him and stood before him. He stared at Daryl with sultry eyes dancing with desire. "I know you want me, Daryl. You've wanted me for a long time."

"No, it's not like that," Daryl rejected.

"You have to stop lying to yourself. You have to learn to give in to your need. Quit denying yourself the ability to know a touch … a kiss. Let me show you what it could be like." Aaron leaned into Daryl, their lips only a hair's width away. "Tell me you've wanted to know what this would feel like. Be honest, Daryl. That's all I've ever wanted from you is your honesty."

Daryl could feel his warm breath against his skin. "Alright, yes. Yes I have wanted to know."

Aaron smiled, his eyes falling on Daryl's lips. "Good. Now let me show you what you've been missing all these years." Aaron's mouth covered Daryl's, lips gliding, pushing against each other, tongues touching, caressing. It felt good. It felt right, and Daryl wished it would never end.

"Fags," he heard his father's voice say through the veil of time. "It's not natural for men to want other men. It's disgusting, a sin, an abomination on this earth."

Daryl pulled away from Aaron to look for his father, but he found Eric instead. He was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against it with one shoulder, arms crossed, gazing at the kissing couple.

Aaron's hand cupped Daryl's face, bringing his attention back. "Look at me, Daryl. Do I seem like a freak to you?"

Daryl shook his head. "No." He was confused as to why Aaron wasn't worried about Eric.

"Do you still want me?" Aaron asked, ignoring the fact that Eric saw them. "Be honest."

"Yes," Daryl answered without hesitation, a wavering to his voice.

Aaron took his hand. "Then let me show you. Let me be your teacher."

"I-I'm scared," Daryl admitted.

"I won't hurt you. I just want to show you what it's like to give in. It's the only way you'll know."

"Know what?" Daryl asked.

Eric was still watching, smiling. "I love you, Aaron," he called, as though Daryl wasn't even there.

Aaron's attention never left Daryl. "I never loved him, you know."

"Then why are you with him?"

"Because a man gets lonely, even a gay man," Aaron answered. "But I was really waiting for you."

Daryl heard some kind of distant chanting. It sounded like someone speaking underwater. "Do you hear that?" he asked, looking around the room. Everything looked distorted, but everything was changing. He was no longer in his quarantine house. "Where are we?"

"I know you want it, Daryl. You can't deny me," Aaron said. He started kissing the side of Daryl's neck, and Daryl was giving into his seductive ministrations. He felt himself twitch and come to life, swelling painfully as Aaron ran his tongue up his neck.

"What's this?" Aaron asked playfully, pushing Daryl against a wall, covering him with his body, gyrating, and making Daryl respond. "You've kept all this tension closed off for too long. You're about to burst, aren't you?" As Aaron spoke, his face blurred and his voice got deeper.

"Aaron?" he asked, suddenly panicked. "What's happening?"

The chanting started to come in clearer, and Daryl recognized the voices. It was his father and Merle. They were repeating one word over and over, and Daryl suddenly felt exposed. "Fag," they sang, their voices getting louder and angrier.

"Don't listen to them," Aaron said, his face still not clear. "They can never know about us. You know what your father will do. This has to be our secret."

In the blink of an eye, Daryl was lying face down on his bed. Someone had him pinned down, their knees holding his legs spread apart. He was naked and scared, his heart pumping, and all the while he could hear the chant.

"Aaron, please. Don't do this. You aren't like this. Please. Let me go, Aaron," Daryl begged.

"Who the hell is Aaron?" said the nightmarish voice.

Daryl struggled to look over his shoulder and confirm his suspicions. He was right. It wasn't Aaron. It was Jay. Daryl looked around the room, and it was no longer his bedroom in Alexandria. It was Jay's garage, and Daryl was on the filthy mattress being held against his will. The chanting melded into the sound of the leaky faucet, water dripping onto the stainless steel sink, the place where he'd just been, where he'd let Jay complete him, where he moaned in pleasure as this man he trusted stroked him into nirvana.

"Let me go, Jay," Daryl begged, his voice young and cracking, like that of a boy going through puberty. "I'm scared. I don't want to do this anymore."

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" Jay said angrily. He covered Daryl with his body, forced his legs apart and started lowering himself onto Daryl's back. "You'll do this, and you're going to keep your mouth shut, boy."

Wait, Daryl thought to himself. I'm not a boy. What the hell was he talking about? Daryl was a long way from being a boy. He'd killed people. He'd killed walkers. He'd been out in the middle of this apocalyptic world and survived on nothing more than his own will to live. He didn't have to give in to Jay. He was a grown man, probably stronger than his attacker. Daryl felt his confidence build with every breath. "I said let me go, asshole," he demanded.

"Get off of him!" Aaron shouted from somewhere in the garage.

Jay was distracted by Aaron, giving Daryl just the chance he needed to overtake Jay. He flipped over, sending Jay rolling off the dirty mattress. Aaron stood over the man, aiming his gun at Jay's head. "You will never hurt him again," he said slow and deliberately so Jay understood every word. The gun clicked. Daryl closed his eyes. It fired, and Jay dropped dead on the floor. When Daryl opened his eyes, Aaron was standing there, blood splattered on his shirt and face. He still held his gun pointed at Jay.

"He's dead," Daryl assessed. "You shot him. He's finally dead." Daryl stood from the mattress and watched Aaron's shocked face. The gun slipped from his hand and tears formed in his eyes.

"Was I supposed to do that?" Aaron asked.

"Someone had to," Daryl said. "You saved me. I never realized it, but you've been saving me ever since we met."

Aaron turned to the sink. The water still dripped annoyingly. "It's your turn," he said to Daryl. "Turn it off."

Daryl went to the sink and tightened the handle. The water dripped less and less until one final drop clung to the edge of the faucet. It never fell, it just stayed there, frozen in time. "It's done. It's finally over," Daryl said.

"Come here," Aaron called to him with open arms.

Daryl gave in to his emotions, letting everything wash over him. He was tired of being someone he was not. He just wanted to be himself for a change. He went to Aaron and let himself envelope into the warm embrace. Aaron pulled back and looked Daryl deep in his eyes. He smiled and leaned forward. They kissed, and Daryl's hands traveled around to the back of Aaron's neck. They went lower, fingers grabbing at Aaron's back, taking the material of his shirt into his fingers, grasping him tight, and pulling him against his body. But something was strange. Aaron's shirt fell away in his hands. His skin slipped from his bones. It was wet and sticky, the sweet pungent scent of death assaulting his nostrils. Daryl pulled back, and he was no longer holding Aaron in his arms. It was a walker, but not just any walker. It was what was left of Jay.

"Miss me?" he gurgled in the sound of a walker.

Daryl tried to push him off, but his skin ripped from his body. He was slippery with decay. The more Daryl struggled, the harder it was to get Jay off. He pushed at his face, and the skin came away revealing nothing but his skull, maggots filling his eye sockets, spilling out onto Daryl's hands. He couldn't escape, not this time.

"Get off me," Daryl screamed. "Go away. Leave me alone. I hate you. I hate you!"

"Daryl! Daryl, stop!" someone said from beyond the room, from beyond the dream.

The last thing Daryl saw was undead Jay about to rip his teeth into his neck. He felt it, he smelled it, it was so real. "No! No!" Daryl repeated, struggling against a pair of gloved hands.

"Daryl, wake up. Wake up!"

He awoke drenched in sweat. His pillow was soaked. The bed sheets were twisted around his legs. He was holding someone's arms tight in his grasp. Daryl couldn't catch his breath. His lungs ached and he started coughing.

"Maggie, it's happening again!" It was Aaron's voice, and he sounded scared.

Daryl looked up to see Aaron dressed in a protective suit, calling for Maggie. "Aaron?" he questioned anyways between coughing fits. By instinct, he pulled the edge of the sheet up and covered his mouth. When he took it away, there were small splatters of blood. "Oh shit," he whispered. He looked up at Aaron's worried face protected by the hazmat suit. "I'm still sick. It's gotten worse."

Aaron looked up, and instantly, relief changed his countenance. "Oh thank God. Hurry."

Daryl didn't see who Aaron was talking to, but he felt a sharp prick on his arm. "What's going on?" he asked, and instantly felt dizzy.

"Just try to relax. Everything's going to be just fine," Aaron smiled. That was the last thing Daryl saw before everything went black and he passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 Alone Again, Naturally**

Daryl blinked his eyes, adjusting to the light. He felt stiff and sore, and his mouth was as dry as sand. He stared at the white popcorn ceiling above his head and thought, who the hell used popcorn ceiling anymore. He felt another presence in the room. "Am I dead?" he croaked.

"You're too stubborn to die," Carol said from beside his bed.

He turned his head to look, and there was his friend, sitting in a chair reading a book, wearing what he called old lady clothes, slacks and a collared floral shirt with a blue sweater vest. "You still look ridiculous," he grumbled.

"And you still need a bath," she smiled back at him.

"How long was I out for?" he asked. He tried to sit up, but his head felt like a thousand woodpeckers were jamming their beaks into his skull.

"Which time?" she asked as she got up and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, easing him back into his pillow. "Not yet, sport. You need to just lay there and take it easy."

"What do you mean, which time?"

"Well, you were out for about two days the first time, when you woke up in a panic clawing at Aaron. Maggie knocked you out and you've been asleep ever since. That was four days ago."

Daryl noticed Carol wasn't wearing a hazmat suit. "Aren't you supposed to be in that astronaut gear?"

"You're past the contagious stage … we think. I volunteered to be the guinea pig."

"What? No! Carol, what are you thinking?" he said, upset to think he was putting someone in danger.

"Relax. You haven't had a fever in twenty four hours, and you stopped coughing blood a couple days ago. We change your sheets and clothes twice a day, and scour the room with bleach three times a day. So unless you spit on me or we decide to exchange bodily fluids, I'm confident I won't catch anything. Besides, I wanted to be here when you woke up, you know, after all you've done for me." She seemed to blush a bit as she smiled and laughed.

"Huh," he huffed, lifting the sheet to see what he was wearing. It was just a pair of pajama bottoms. "Who changed my clothes?"

"Well, the women were lined up to draw numbers out of a hat for that chore," Carol joked. "But in the end, it was Rick and Glenn who did it, you know, to spare your vanity."

She helped Daryl sit up and held a cup to his lips so he could drink some water. "You know, you had us pretty worried there for a couple days. Your fever was spiking dangerously high and you were coughing up blood. Someone stayed with you around the clock, just to make sure you didn't choke in your sleep. We all took shifts, but Aaron took more turns than anyone. He really admires you. He looks up to you."

"Yeah, he's a good guy," Daryl commented.

"I'm glad you know that. You know you can be kind of standoffish sometimes. You come across as a rebel, and sometimes threatening, but I think you teaming up with Aaron has chiseled away at some of your sharp edges."

"Are you saying I'm dull now?" he asked, giving Carol a squint-eyed stare.

"Dull is one thing Daryl Dixon will never be, but I think you're a little more … approachable. Just a little though." She set the glass down. "Are you hungry?"

"Kind of," he said.

Carol picked up the walkie talkie and spoke into it. "Can we get some broth sent to Mr. Dixon's room please?" she said in a comical tone.

"Sure thing, Carol," answered a woman. "Do you think he'd like chicken or … Hey, I was using that."

A new voice came across the radio. "Is he awake?" It was Aaron.

"Just opened his eyes," Carol said.

"Why didn't you call me? I'll be right there," Aaron said anxiously.

"He's not going anywhere, Aaron, so don't come without that broth."

"Bring me a beer too, while you're at it," he called out.

"Daryl? Aw man, it's good to hear your voice," Aaron said through the radio.

"It's good to hear you too," Daryl admitted.

"I'll be there in a little bit, as soon as I get this broth for Nurse Ratched," Aaron jostled.

"I heard that," Carol responded, but she was smiling. It was a joke between her and the others who helped take care of Daryl.

"You were supposed to," Aaron said, and that ended the conversation.

While they waited, Carol checked Daryl's temperature, which was still reading normal. She called Maggie, who would want to see her patient now that he was awake. Then she took Daryl's hand in hers. "It's about to get hectic around here, so I'll take this moment to say I'm glad you're back. I missed my friend, and I was awfully worried for you. Now, don't ever scare me like that again, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am," Daryl answered. Carol got up and went to the bedroom door, but before she left, Daryl had one more question. "So, did you have a number in that hat?"

"Are you kidding? I put my number in twice." She rolled her eyes and with a laugh, left the room.

A little while later, Daryl heard her talking to Maggie. "It's safe. I checked and still no fever. Besides, he needs to see people without those damn suits on. He's not an experiment, he's family." That was just like Carol to say something like that.

Maggie came in, smiling joyfully at her patient. "Well, look at you. Finally decided to join the living, did you?

"I figured I slept long enough."

"How are you feeling?"

"My body is stiff and my joints are sore. I want to get out of this damn bed," he complained.

"You will, but let's give you time to adjust first. You haven't been out of bed for a week. You're going to be a bit wobbly on your feet."

"Can I at least sit up? My back is killing me," Daryl complained.

"Let me get some pillows to prop you up with." Maggie left and came back with an armful of pillows. She helped him up and stuffed them behind his back, adjusting them until he was comfortable. "Better?"

"Much, thanks. So, what happened to me?"

"What do you remember?"

"I remember coming here. My throat hurt and it was scratchy. I was starting to cough, but there wasn't any blood. I was so tired and I laid down. The fever was already coming on by that time. I went to sleep, I guess."

Maggie sat in the chair next to the bed. "When I came to check on you, your fever was spiking to 103, and you were incoherent. I couldn't get you to wake fully, so I gave you something to help you sleep sound and another dose for the virus. You slept all of the next day, and on the third day, while Aaron was on watch, you came to, but you were disturbed by something. Probably fever dreams. They can make you hallucinate."

Daryl forgot until Maggie mentioned it. He'd been dreaming some crazy shit. "Yeah, that was probably it. I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"No, Aaron had a handle on things. He was good at calming you. He'd speak slow and soothingly. It reminded me of a ranch hand my daddy hired one summer. He'd speak to the horses that way when he was breaking them in. Aaron knew what he was doing, like a pro, but he said he'd never done anything like it before. He's a natural."

Daryl started having flashes of that dream. Aaron had been in it, talking to him, saying … well, saying things that would have calmed a savage beast. It had seemed so real at the time. Daryl … felt things, and not just physically. But this had been figments of his fevered imagination, nothing more. So why did he feel so disappointed?

"You ok?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah, just remembering some of my dreams. It was weird."

"It didn't have a scarecrow, a lion and a tin man in it, did it?" said Aaron from the doorway.

Daryl's attention snapped in that direction, and there he was holding a thermos that must have contained the broth. "Well, if it isn't my own personal flying monkey," Daryl joked.

Aaron came in and set the thermos down on a nearby table. He smiled genuinely. "It's good to see you awake."

"It's good to see you too, man." Daryl took in the sight of him, wearing a long sleeve, button up, blue plaid shirt tucked into khaki's with a belt. He looked like a suburbia dad, and Daryl laughed to himself. Aaron was clean shaven, hair clipped short, but now he was growing a goatee and a mustache. It made him look a little more rugged and a little bit older. "What's this?" Daryl asked, stroking his own beard in gesture.

"Oh," Aaron said shyly. "Yeah, just thought I'd try something different for a change."

"So, you ok? You didn't get sick?" Daryl asked.

"Nope, got a clean bill of health. So did Caleb," Aaron informed him.

"Caleb. Oh shit, I forgot. How's he doing?" Daryl asked anxiously.

"He's adjusting. Maggie introduced him to Alison, the town's psychologist. They've met every day this week. It seems to be helping him."

"Aaron told me everything that happened," Maggie said. "Absolutely horrific, but Caleb is stronger than you might think. He's doing good. Carl has taken him under his wing. They spend a lot of time together, which is good for Caleb. He's remembering what it's like to be a kid."

"That's great news." Daryl adjusted his position, wishing he could get up, but he could feel how weak he was. "So, I guess you had the right kind of meds. That was pretty lucky."

Maggie nodded quickly. "Yep, pretty lucky." She glanced at Aaron, unspoken words transferring between them, as though they kept a secret. "Hey, you need to eat your broth. Get as much down as you can handle. Aaron, are you going to stay and see that he eats?"

"Yeah, you can go. I can handle this," Aaron said.

"I'll be back in a little bit. You still need your medicine. We don't want you to have a relapse."

"Thanks Maggie. You're truly an angel," Aaron told her, making her blush as she left the room. He picked up the thermos and took the top off. He poured some broth into the plastic cup and gave it to Daryl. As Aaron watched him drink, he huffed a laugh. "Did you know some of the women were arguing over who would get to change your clothes and give you a sponge bath?"

"Yeah, I heard," Daryl said, unimpressed, sipping his broth.

"I would have gotten in on the lottery thing, but I worried what it might look like … the gay guy competing with the women." Aaron laughed at his own joke.

"Thanks for that," Daryl said between slurps.

It got quiet, and Aaron's face changed from the light hearted look to something more serious. "You had me worried there for a while. You were bad off, Daryl. I never felt so helpless. We all did, actually. It was a torturous waiting game."

"You can stop worrying. I'm ok now." Daryl handed the empty cup to Aaron.

"You want more?"

Daryl shook his head. "Not now. What I want is to get out of this bed."

"You're not supposed to, but since I'm here to help." Aaron moved around and helped Daryl sit up and hang his legs over the side of the bed. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Daryl said. Aaron wrapped his arm around Daryl's bare waist, and helped him stand. He stayed that way while Daryl got his bearings. The warmth of Aaron's skin on his, and the flex of his muscles sent a wave of awareness through him. This was the closest they'd ever been to each other. Part of Daryl's dream came back to him, and he remembered the kiss they shared, but it was only a dream.

"You ok?" Aaron asked when Daryl still hadn't moved.

"I'm good. Let's do this." Daryl put his arm around Aaron's shoulders and used him as his crutch. He took a couple steps, but he suddenly lost his equilibrium. Aaron held him with both arms to keep him from falling. Daryl was surprised by Aaron's strength to hold him up. He was much stronger than he looked. He regained his balance and Aaron's grip loosened on his waist, but he held a hand to Daryl's chest, and it felt very comforting. Daryl's heart began to race, and his breathing sped up, but he told himself it was because of the physical exertion of trying to walk after a week in bed. He looked up at Aaron to make sure it wasn't too much weight for him to hold.

"It's alright. I won't let you fall," Aaron told him.

"I know you won't," Daryl responded, but he meant it in more ways than this one. Aaron must have understood his meaning, because he smiled.

"Let's try this again," Aaron said, and he readjusted his hold on Daryl.

Standing straight again, Daryl took a few more steps and made it to the other side of the bedroom. Aaron kept a firm hold around his waist as they walked back to the bed. He helped lower Daryl to the mattress and took a step back. "Not bad for your first time. Next time it will be easier. You just need to regain your strength."

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It felt good to get up though. Can we try again in a little bit?" Daryl asked.

"I guess I'm your physical therapist now," Aaron joked.

"Add it to your list of jobs," Daryl said.

Daryl rested and Aaron filled him in on everything that happened in the past week. Not much was going on besides the usual stuff. Mostly, everyone was worried about Daryl. The one thing Aaron didn't mention was Eric. "So how are things going for you? You talk to Eric?" Daryl asked.

"He, uh, he was moved out when I went home. He did come by to see me once while I was in quarantine, but that was it. I see him in passing, but we really haven't said much to each other."

"You know, you really should–"

"I'd really rather not talk about it," Aaron interrupted. "I'm actually fine with it. It's a bit lonely at home in that big house, but no one has answered my personals about a roommate," he joked. Then he turned his eyes down to the floor, the seriousness coming back to his face. "The offer still stands if you're interested."

"Yeah, well, I haven't had much time to give it any consideration."

"I know, but what is there to consider?"

Daryl looked away, not sure what to say. He didn't know if he wanted this or not. He wasn't sure it was the right decision, or if Aaron was moving too fast just after ending a long relationship with Eric.

"I'm sorry," Aaron apologized. "I tend to get a little pushy when there's something I really want. I guess I'm used to getting my way."

"I just don't understand why? And I know we've had this conversation before, and you told me what you saw in me and all that. It just worries me a little that you were with Eric for so long, and now you're ready to move on without tying up loose ends. It's like you're afraid to be alone."

"Yes, I'm afraid to be alone," Aaron confessed without giving it any thought. "I was alone for a long time before I met Eric, and I was beginning to tell myself that's just how my life was going to be from then on. Eric is very special to me, and he'll always hold a special place in my heart, but I've simply decided that I don't want to settle, not when I think I've stumbled upon something that could turn out to be what I've always wanted."

"And what about what I want?" Daryl asked.

"I'm hoping it will be the same thing," Aaron answered honestly. "Listen, you're going to be in here for a few more days, plenty of time to think about it. I won't pester you anymore, ok?" He put the thermos where Daryl could reach it, now that he was back in bed. "You need to finish this before Carol comes back, or she might force feed it to you," he smiled. "I better go, let you get some sleep." Aaron turned to go to the door, but Daryl stopped him.

"Hey, Aaron, thanks for everything, whether I become your new roommate or not. I really appreciate it."

"The decision was easy. I knew you'd do it for me if the tables had been turned," Aaron smiled from the doorway just before he left.

* * *

A couple days had gone by. Daryl was feeling better. Aaron had been by every day to help him get up and walk, and to make sure he was eating enough, making sure he was getting his strength back. The virus had taken its toll on him, and it was taking longer than he thought to get back to normal. Daryl didn't like it. He didn't like being laid up like this, having people wait on him. He felt like it made him look weak. Back home, before everything happened, if someone got sick you kept going. You didn't lie around recovering. No one brought him food or visited him. You got your ass whipped if you didn't hold your own where Daryl came from. He wasn't used to the attention, and he didn't like it. He was hoping to get out of his 'cell' soon.

On this particular day, Aaron hadn't been around his usual time of the morning. Now it was afternoon, and Daryl was beginning to wonder what happened to him. He wouldn't ask anyone, though. He didn't want someone to think he was actually paying attention to who came and went, and when.

Maggie came earlier to give him another dose of medicine. Carol came after with some food, and to deliver the good news that tomorrow he was free to leave the quarantine house. He could finally go home, but which home would he go to, his or Aaron's? Daryl had been giving it careful consideration, and a part of him liked the idea of rooming with Aaron. They got along extremely well. They enjoyed each other's company. They worked together, though, and that could be a downfall. They would always be together. And then there was the complicated side of things, the fact that Aaron had feelings for him, and Daryl was still trying to figure out where he stood. That dream he had didn't help much. Yes, it was just a dream, but it felt very real, making Daryl want to revisit the situation minus the horror parts. Would that happen every time? Would Daryl's past intervene each time he tried to let himself be free to know what he really wanted? Maybe he was never meant to know. Maybe it was his past that was making him have these urges, and not his personal choice. Could living with Aaron help him figure things out, or would it be a bigger burden? Daryl was almost ready to throw caution to the wind and take that chance. Aaron was right about one thing. Daryl had to stop living his life for his ghosts.

He heard the front door open, and thought it might be Aaron, but to his surprise, Eric came in, knocking on the doorframe to the bedroom. "Eric, it's uh … what a surprise." Daryl didn't know what to say. He never expected to see Eric, and was suspicious of his visit.

"No one's more surprised than I am," Eric said. "How … how are you?"

"Better. Getting out of here tomorrow."

"Oh, that's good." Eric didn't sound like he wanted to make small talk. If he was here, there was an important reason.

"Everything alright?" Daryl wondered.

"Yeah," Eric answered sounding confident, but he deflated quickly. "Actually, no, and that's why I'm here. I … I need to speak with you … about Aaron."

Daryl's heart leapt to his throat, and his tone turned serious. "He hasn't been by today. Has something happened?"

Eric's brows furrowed at Daryl's sudden concern. "Everything is fine, as far as I know. At the last minute, Glenn asked him to go on a supply run with him. Probably be gone all day. Actually, I'm here on my own accord. I just wanted to know where things stand."

"I'm not sure I understand. You mean with me and you or me and Aaron?"

"I know where things stand between us, at least I think so. Things might have gotten a little bit sideways between us. I mean, I let you into my home, or mine and Aaron's home. We gave you space as you adjusted, watched you figure out what it was you were meant to do around here. I let Aaron talk me into letting you take over my place as a recruiter, and I've heard nothing but good things about you. I did question your loyalty, though, and I worried what you would do in a tough situation. I heard the whispers about you and your group, and it worried me. I guess I let my fears get the best of me, and started getting overprotective of Aaron. My biggest worry was that you would leave him behind if things went awry out there."

"I would never do that," Daryl explained. "It's not a matter of protecting the people I came in here with. It's about protecting everyone and the town, keeping this place safe, especially as we bring in new residents."

"I know that now, but at the time, certain people were whispering in my ear."

By certain people, Daryl wondered if he meant Gerrard and his buddies. "I'm glad you decided not to listen to them."

"You're a good man, Daryl, which is why I've come here to ask something from you," Eric said, walking to a chair. "May I?" he gestured.

"Sure."

Eric took a seat, and Daryl moved to the edge of his bed. He anchored his bare feet to the flood, and his palms to the bed, leaned forward a bit and waited for Eric to talk.

"I want to thank you for keeping Aaron safe out there. I heard about your trouble, and you put your life on the line to bring him back home. Even though we're having our differences right now, Aaron is still very special to me."

"Funny, he says the same thing about you." Should Daryl have told him that? It was too late now.

Eric smiled just a bit when he heard Daryl. "I … I jumped to conclusions when I threatened to move out. I thought I could force him into staying, or not taking you with him. My plan backfired when Aaron went anyways, and being stubborn myself, I had to follow through with my threat. I'm afraid I've chased him away, and I didn't want that. But now … he … he's become fond of you, Daryl."

"We're good friends, nothing more," Daryl said, but he knew where Eric was going with this.

"I think it's more than that for him," Eric said softly.

Daryl looked away and shook his head. "Come on, Eric." He tried to sound like he denied any realization, but knew it was true.

"He was here every day while you were sick. He sat by your bed, read to you, talked to you about the day's events. Not once did he try to patch things up between us. All he cared about was you, to the point that he risked his life going outside by himself."

Daryl's attention snapped back to Eric. "What do you mean he left? Why?"

"Didn't they tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Eric sighed, looking as though he'd said too much, but there was no going back now. "The medicine wasn't doing enough. It was keeping you from getting worse, but you weren't getting better. Your fever was staying too high, which was very dangerous. Maggie knew what you needed, but we didn't have it here. Aaron said he knew of a place where he was sure he'd find it, or he wouldn't come back until he did. Deanna denied him, but he snuck out in the middle of the night, alone, to find the medication. No one knew where he was going. He came back late the next day, gave Maggie the drugs, got in an argument with Deanna when she tried to berate him for not following the rules. And then he went straight here to sit with you again. He wouldn't tell anyone where he'd been, but he was scratched and bruised. He'd made it back, but not without a fight."

Daryl was upset by this information. Aaron should never have risked his life like that, especially to go out alone. But even as angry as he was, a part of him felt elated to know Aaron would do this for him. After all, Daryl would have done it for Aaron had the tables been turned, without even a second thought. He kept this to himself though. "It was a stupid move. He should have never gone, especially by himself. He could have been killed."

"Here's the thing. Aaron would never have risked it. He would have played by the rules. I've never known him to behave in such a way before. The difference is that this was for you. I don't think he would have done it if he didn't care so deeply."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're trying to blame me for Aaron's decisions," Daryl said, testing Eric.

"No, but … I-I don't know where you stand, and I'm not sure what you realize and what you don't, but if there's nothing between the two of you … and I'm not suggesting there is … then you need to tell him that or I fear he's going to go too far out on a limb for you and not come back." Eric got up from his chair and paced to the other side of the room. "Here's the honest truth. I love Aaron, probably more than I've ever loved anyone, but I screwed up. I just want him back. Now, though, he's not even paying attention because he's too busy pining over you. Maybe you don't know this or maybe you do, and you're just choosing to ignore it, hope it goes away, but whatever it is, if there's nothing going on here, I'm asking … no … begging you to set him free so that I might have another chance with him."

"Aaron's a grown man. He can make his own decisions. I'm not holding him hostage. He's my friend and that's all," Daryl said.

"That's what you need to tell him, because I've seen the way he looks at you when you don't notice. I've watched him prepare to cross heaven and hell for you. It's not fair to him to lead him on with false hope, and by not saying anything to him, that's exactly what you're doing." Eric went to the bedroom door and stopped. He glanced back as though he was going to say something, but instead, Eric gave Daryl a pleading look, and then went on his way.

Daryl was left with his thoughts and a thousand doubts. Perhaps it wasn't fair. He liked Aaron as a friend. He was still discovering the rest. Hell, he didn't even know about himself much less bringing Aaron into the scheme of things. It wasn't fair to keep Aaron waiting in the wings while Daryl figured out his thoughts and feelings. Yet, he felt he would never figure it out on his own. Aaron could help him, if only he'd let the man in, but Daryl was afraid. The dream came back to him, the kiss, the way it made Daryl feel, but the aftermath of letting go turned into a nightmare, and he found himself staring back at Jay. He was very confused by his feelings. Maybe Eric was right.

* * *

Later on, Maggie came by for one final checkup. "I say you're good to go. Tomorrow morning, you can move back to–"

"Can I go now?" Daryl interrupted.

She cocked her head and observed him a moment. "It's kind of late, and I need to give you one last dose in the morning."

"Can't you just do that at my house?" He sounded a bit anxious to go, and Maggie didn't want him stressing. Daryl ran his hand through his hair, and then gazed up at Maggie. "I just really want to be alone."

"Something happen that you want to talk about?" Maggie asked, giving her support.

"Naw, I'm just not used to so much attention, and it's kind of worn me out, you know?"

Maggie sighed and crossed her arms as she made her final decision. "I guess that would be alright. Do you want me to get someone to help you move your things back to your place?"

"I don't have anything here I want, except my clothes."

"Alright, well, if anything happens, if you start feeling bad again or anything like that, don't hesitate to come get me, ok?"

"Will do," Daryl said. He got his clothes, which had been washed and neatly folded on the dresser, threw on his vest and boots, and followed Maggie to the door. "Thanks for everything." Maggie smiled and nodded, and watched Daryl leave.

"Finally," Daryl said as he closed his front door behind him. He glanced around the small home, and suddenly felt very alone. He smiled and plopped down on the couch. Why couldn't it be like this all the time? The quiet and solitude kept him from having to think about things, from having to figure stuff out or waking up his demons. He'd be perfectly fine living as a hermit, he said to himself. With that thought, Daryl fell asleep on his couch.

* * *

The sun was just coming up. A beam of light knifed through a split in the curtains covering the front window. Daryl blinked and watched dust particles travel in and out of the sunbeam, going nowhere in particular. He'd hardly slept a wink. His brain just wouldn't shut off as he considered Eric's plea. He came to a decision sometime late into the night, and then dozed on and off for the next couple hours. Of course, when he finally started to fall into a deep sleep, the sun woke him up. He had never lived by an alarm clock. It was the sunrise that always stirred him to wake.

Daryl got up, washed, dressed, and headed out to see Deanna. He would need to speak with her first, get the ball rolling, so to say. He had to do this before he talked to Aaron.

"Daryl, it's so good to see you up and around again. You look good, considering you were nearly comatose a little more than a week ago," Deanna said after inviting him into her home.

"Well, I feel pretty good. Mostly, I'm just glad to be out of that damn quarantine house," he admitted.

"So, what can I do for you?" As she asked, she gestured to a chair by her desk.

Daryl took a seat, and wasted no time getting down to business. "I've given it a lot of thought, and I think I'd like a job change."

Deanna looked shocked by his request and asked just to be sure. "Are you saying you don't want to be a recruiter anymore?"

"Yes, ma'am. You heard me right. Actually, if you'd put me in the watchtower, I'd be pleased with that."

"You're the best tracker I've got," Deanna said, absolutely dumbfounded. "Do you mind telling me why the sudden change?"

"I need some different scenery," he said tersely.

Deanna stared at him a moment, trying to figure him out, trying to get him to break. All she discovered was that Daryl was … besides herself … the only person she knew who had such a good poker face. He was unreadable. He always had been. "I honestly hate to see you change jobs. I thought you were well suited for the position of recruiter."

"Well, it was just temporary. After all, Eric and Aaron are your original recruiters, and I was just filling in for Eric until he was up and on his feet again. I'd say he's ready, and I don't want to interfere with what he and Aaron have going on."

"I … guess that's understandable, although I really wish you would reconsider," Deanna said, making one last attempt.

"It's high time I moved on, ma'am, and maybe I'll eventually find some other way to contribute, but for now, a shift in the watchtower would suit me well."

"Alright then. How about next week some–"

"I'd like to start now, if you don't mind," he said, cutting her off.

"Are you sure, Daryl? You just recovered from a very serious illness."

"Maggie only has one more dose for me this morning. Besides, I'm feeling back to my normal self, and I'm not the type of person to sit around with nothing to do. I need to keep busy."

Deanna observed him another moment before she gave her answer. "Alright, if you're sure. I've got someone wanting to move to an earlier shift, so I could use you from five to midnight, if you don't mind those hours."

"That'd be great. Thank you," he smiled.

Maggie came around the corner, looking for Deanna and was surprised to see Daryl. "I was just about to come to your place."

"Saved you a trip," Daryl said.

"Great, well, I've got my things in the other room. Be right back," Maggie said as she started to leave. She stopped and turned back to him. "Glenn and Aaron are back. They came in about an hour or so ago and crashed. Aaron's sleeping on our couch. He was too tired to make it home. Just thought you'd like to know."

"Thanks," Daryl said softly.

It must have been around nine o'clock that night when Daryl heard someone coming up the stairs of the watchtower. It was too early for his replacement, unless he was just checking to see Daryl was alright. But up through the trapdoor he saw a familiar head of wavy hair and prepared for whatever was about to happen.

"Can I come up?" Aaron asked, looking around the cramped space of the tower.

"You're halfway up as it is. Might as well come the rest of the way in," Daryl said.

"I heard you'd left the quarantine house, so I went to your home. A passerby said they heard you'd opted for guard duty in the watchtower," Aaron started.

"Yeah," Daryl said, going back to the window and glancing out over the wall. He had a rifle leaning against one wall, a couple bottles of water, and a paper bag with a sandwich in it, which he'd been getting ready to eat when Aaron showed up.

"Why?" Aaron asked.

"Needed something else to do."

"Something else? What about recruiting?" Aaron asked curiously.

Daryl kept staring out the window as he spoke. "I'm not going to be doing that anymore."

"What are you talking about? Daryl, what's going on?"

"I had a lot of time to think while I was laid up, and I think it's time things got back to the way they were," Daryl confessed.

"The way they were was that you and I went out on recruiting runs," Aaron argued.

"That was supposed to be temporary."

"Maybe at first, but … you know how I felt about Eric going out there. I didn't want him risking his life anymore."

"And now look, you're not even together anymore. You're living in separate houses. Maybe if I'd never accepted your offer, you and Eric would still be together," Daryl countered. He thought he saw some bushes moving along the road outside of the gates, and picked up his rifle.

"I told you, it was a long time coming, me and Eric's separation. So what, you think that you coming to Alexandria is why we broke up? It was going to happen anyways."

"So can you honestly say that you wouldn't be with him right now had I not come along?" Daryl asked, but Aaron was silent. "All I'm saying is you could be throwing something good away over someone who's not even sure who he is. I'm not going to be the reason you left Eric after two years. I'm not worth it."

"How can you say that?" Aaron whispered.

"I am an emotional mess," Daryl said, finally taking his attention off the road and putting it on Aaron. "I think about things, and … I … I'm always thrown back into my own personal hell."

"You're chased by phantoms, I get it, but you also admit that you've given it some thought. What have you thought about? Have you thought about things in general, or have you thought about us? That's what you need to realize. You can stay in denial all you want, but you know where your mind wanders when you allow it freedom."

It was like Aaron was in his head. He was right. When he allowed himself to consider certain things, Aaron was always part of it. Daryl started to get angry that Aaron could read him so easily. No one had ever done that, and it scared the shit out of him. He needed to put a stop to it right now. "You need to go back to Eric and make things right again."

"I don't want Eric," Aaron whispered in desperation.

"You're only fooling yourself to think anything could come of us. I'm beyond repairing, no matter whether you think you can fix me or not. Maybe I don't want to be fixed. Maybe I'm ok as I am. I'm better off alone where I can't hurt anyone. I'm good on my own. I always have been. No one gets hurt when I'm alone, and the last person I want to hurt is you," Daryl admitted. Something caught his attention and he looked out the window again. Now he could see it clearly, another walker slowly advancing on the gate. He lifted the rifle, resting it on the windowsill as he looked through the eyepiece.

"Daryl please reconsider this," Aaron pleaded.

"I can't, and you know why? I know what you did for me. I know you risked your life to go out looking for that medicine. You put your life on the line for me, and I can't even give you anything in return. If something had happened to you . . . The truth is, I don't know if I can give to you in return what you're so readily willing to give to me. I can't do it. I just can't."

"How do you know when you've never even tried?" The rifle went off, and Daryl saw Aaron flinch.

"You want a charity case? Is that it?" Daryl spoke with anger. "I'm not your man. But Eric, he loves you. You're his world. That's who deserves your attention. Neither one of you want to be alone, but me … I'm fine with it. I don't need nobody else."

"You really want this?" Aaron asked one last time.

"I do." Daryl stayed facing the window, his eye gazing through the eyepiece of the gun. "Now go. I've got a job to do, and I don't need any more distractions."

"Wow, just like that. Fine," Aaron said displaying anger. "I'll not bother you anymore. Just remember, you pushed me away, but I was never going to give up on you. I still won't. I think the real Daryl is simmering just below the surface, but he lets too many bad memories keep him buried. You can live a solitary life and avoid your ghosts. God knows I've done it myself in the past. But you need to ask yourself this. In the world we live in today, is being alone really the answer?" Aaron left the tower.

Being alone in this world was always a risk, Daryl thought to himself, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about hurting anyone if something happened to him. This was the right thing to do, he convinced himself. Aaron was better off with Eric, even if he didn't truly love the man. He cared for him, cared what happened to him, and that was enough … or so Daryl thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 Just When He Thought It Was Safe**

A month had gone by since Daryl saw Aaron last. He made sure not to be where Aaron might be, and avoided any kind of parties. It would be too awkward to see Aaron now, and Daryl was fine by himself. He managed to stay clear of any thoughts that would confuse him or bring up his past. He threw himself into his job as watchman, and went out on a couple supply runs with Glenn. When he did socialize, he stayed with his group. He felt safe with them. He knew they wouldn't judge him or ask him a lot of questions. Carol brought up the fact that he wasn't being very social lately, and wondered if he'd had that fever too long. Maybe it screwed up his brain, she would say. Actually, it was his feelings for Aaron that did that, but he kept it to himself, and pretended he was better off having sent Aaron away.

However, it was a small town, and one could only avoid another person for so long. Daryl might not have had to come within the same vicinity of Aaron, but he saw a lot at a distance from the watchtower. The tower had windows on all four sides, so he could see a good deal of the town as well as outside the gates. He watched one evening as guests strolled up to Deanna's house for another dinner party. All the regulars were there, and so were members of his own group. And then he saw Aaron walking alone. He was dressed nice, though … jeans, a neatly pressed shirt, and a jacket, clean shaven. He'd gotten rid of the goatee. Guess he didn't want to be like Daryl anymore. His heart sunk a little to see it. That was alright. Aaron was moving on. That was good.

Aaron stopped at the gate in front of Deanna's house. He smiled shyly and waved to someone. A tree blocked Daryl's view, but he watched as Aaron waited for someone to catch up. And then Eric appeared, wearing that goofy smile, the one he always saved for Aaron. They stood together a moment, talking. Daryl could almost read their lips. "You look good." "So do you." That kind of small talk that Daryl was never good at. Eric reached out and fingered the lapel of Aaron's jacket, taking notice. But then he watched Aaron's smile light up, and a bit of jealousy made its way into his heart. Well, he thought, he'd told him to go back to Eric. There was no reason to be mad about it, but he was slightly. He was just being stupid, he said, and pushed the wicked thought away.

That feeling stayed with him for days afterwards, though. Why the hell did he care? He told Aaron to move on, and made the choice to give up recruiting. He still went outside the gates with Glenn every now and then. He had to go outside from time to time. Alexandria was too confining, even more so now. It didn't matter. He was better off alone so his demons wouldn't find him.

He'd seen Aaron with Eric a few more times after that, walking together, laughing and smiling, enjoying each other's company. That must have been how they were before Daryl came to town, before he befriended Aaron, before Aaron revealed his feelings towards him. Eric was the better choice, he thought. Eric loved Aaron. He could give him everything he deserved and more, and perhaps Aaron would learn to love Eric too. This was good, Daryl told himself. But if it was, then why did he feel like shit?

That night, he had that dream again, the one with Beth, only this time she didn't die in his arms. She got up, bloody head and all, and walked across from him. She crossed her arms and gave him a scowling look.

"What do you think you're doing?" she berated him.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You're supposed to be with Aaron," she said.

"No," he disagreed, shaking his head. "It wasn't right. Aaron was already with someone. I'm no home wrecker."

"Ah," she smiled, pointing a finger at him. "You see, I thought you might say you weren't like Aaron and Eric, but you didn't. This is the first step in owning up to who you are, and you weren't denying it."

"What? Wait, that's not what I was implying. Aaron was a good friend, nothing more, but he developed feelings for me, and I knew I couldn't return them."

"Couldn't or wouldn't? There's a big difference. And let's not forget who you're talking to here. You told me everything, Daryl. I know what you are, even if you won't say it out loud. Why won't you admit it? You're going to have to let go sooner or later. And Aaron," she smiled, clapping her hands together as she looked up at the ceiling. "If ever there was someone who could walk with you during this special time, it's him. He understands where you're coming from. He'll let you take your time. He won't rush you. He just wants you to be happy, and he's hoping you'll be happy with him." Beth's eye narrowed on him, and she was scowling again. "But you can't be happy, can you? You enjoy wallowing around in misery and loneliness. Well, I'm here to tell you that it's not right and it's not good. In this world, there's not many like you, and out of those who are, there's even less who would care about you the way Aaron does."

"And what about Eric? We just toss him to the side?" Daryl countered.

"He came to you to dissuade you and it worked. You let Eric tell you what you were thinking and feeling, but you know better than him what your heart is telling you. For God's sake, Daryl, if you never do anything right ever again, don't let it start with Aaron as your first mistake. Go to him. Talk to him. Make things right between you again. And then release your inhibitions. Free yourself of these stupid fears that your family instilled on you. They were wrong. Embrace this, Daryl, or have regrets, and I think you've had enough of those for a while."

"Why should I listen to you? You're just another ghost who haunts me."

Beth smiled and cupped the side of his face with her ethereal hand. "Because I'm the only one who deep down you know is right." She slowly faded to nothing, leaving Daryl to contemplate things.

He woke up feeling overwhelmed and panicked. Damn these wicked dreams. Why couldn't they leave him alone? He was doing fine on his own. Now he couldn't turn off his brain. "Not today," he told himself. It was never today.

He was on his way to the weapons room to check out his gear when he saw Aaron go in first. Daryl froze. Should he wait? Should he turn around and go back later? Ridiculous, he told himself, and he kept walking. He went into the room, and found Aaron asking for his hand gun and rifle. He turned to see who had come in behind him, and his eyes widened at the sight of Daryl.

"Sup," Daryl said first with a nod of his head.

"Daryl, hi?" Aaron greeted, sounding rather pleased. "I haven't seen you around in a long time."

"Been busy, you know, with the job and all."

"Yeah, guard duty. How's that going?"

Small talk … Daryl hated it. "It's alright. I go out on supply runs with Glenn once in a while, just to keep sharp. What about you? How's the recruiting business?"

"We've kind of been grounded for a little bit. Yeah, a pretty big heard was spotted way out on the north side. Deanna said she didn't want us going out there for a little while, so I haven't been doing much of anything." Aaron saw Daryl's knives and a gun that he used, picked them up and handed them to Daryl. "You going on a run now?"

"No. Actually, I was about to head out and do some hunting, if you know what I mean," Daryl admitted.

"Wow, hey, that's what I was planning on doing," Aaron said, and the woman in charge of signing weapons in and out gave him a skeptical eye. Aaron smiled politely. "Rabbits."

Daryl's mouth quirked at the corner. It was an inside joke between them. Aaron had said he was hunting rabbits when Daryl caught him following him in the woods after his group first arrived in Alexandria.

"Mind if I tag along?" Aaron asked, but he regretted it as soon as the words left his lips. "Or if you'd rather be alone, I–"

"Naw, man. It's ok," he responded before thinking it through.

They headed out together and disappeared into the woods. They stayed close to one another, each man on high alert, ears trained to any sounds, eyes trained on all movement. Neither one spoke for the longest time, but both men were comfortable in each other's company. If Daryl was going to hang out with Aaron, this was the best way to do it. It didn't leave much time for talking. However, it had been a while since they came out here, and they hadn't seen any signs of walkers. Sooner or later, they were going to have to engage in conversation, so Daryl started it.

"Just like old times, huh?"

"Almost," Aaron answered from behind. Daryl could feel his eyes upon him.

"Yeah, well … Hey, I wanted to apologize for being a dick … you know … back then."

"It's ok. I guess things were moving a little fast. It's my fault too. I put you under too much pressure," Aaron apologized.

Not needing to say anything more about it, they finished out their time concentrating on the hunt. There'd only been a few walkers, and that was good. It meant that the heard someone reported wasn't near the town, not yet anyways. They both agreed to that.

They were almost back to the main road that led to the gates of town, and Daryl was glad the conversations stayed casual. But then, Aaron started to ask something, and Daryl stopped him when he saw movement in some underbrush. "Wait," he told Aaron as he trained his crossbow on the bush. He fired, his arrow whizzing into the foliage. Daryl went in and came back out with a rabbit hanging from his arrow. He smiled slightly. "For the weapons lady," he said.

Aaron huffed a laugh as Daryl handed the rabbit to him. "Thanks," he said observing the clean kill.

Daryl kept walking, but now at a little faster pace. He wanted to get back before Aaron decided to ask whatever he was about to ask. He wasn't fast enough.

"Hey, uh, you want to hang out sometime? I mean in town, not out here, although this was fun, if that is the right word for it," Aaron said nervously. "You could come over for dinner," he suggested.

Without turning to look at Aaron, Daryl answered. "Geez, I … I don't know."

"How about a beer on the front porch," Aaron said. "Just as friends … like we were today. I could use the conversation."

"Won't Eric be there?" Daryl asked. He wouldn't come around if Eric was there.

"He's actually going to play bridge with some of the older ladies," Aaron laughed. "I guess he decided poker night at Gerrard's house was a little too much testosterone for his liking."

"I guess that would be alright. I don't have guard duty tonight."

"Great," Aaron said sounding overjoyed.

They went back to the weapons room and turned in their equipment. Aaron showed the woman his rabbit and said he'd take it to the kitchen. He turned back to Daryl, who was still unarming himself. "See you later."

"Alright," Daryl nodded, not making a big deal out of it. Inside, he was a messy ball of nerves. What the hell did he just agree too?

One night of beer and conversation turned into two and then three. Daryl was suddenly spending his off nights hanging out with Aaron, just the two of them as friends, starting over without all the other stuff. They kept their new relationship simple, even went out hunting a couple times. It was good, and Daryl found himself relaxing once again. Then one evening, he got a little brave with his questions. "So why is it that in all the times I've been here, Eric's never been here too?"

"I didn't think you'd be comfortable with him here."

"Eric's a cool guy," Daryl admitted. "Besides, you shouldn't have to feel like you need to chase him out of the house every time I come over."

"Chase him out? Oh, you thought Eric moved back in." Aaron stopped and shook his head. "No, he still has his own place. We've decided to remain friends."

"Really. I thought the two of you would have patched things up by now."

"We've gone to a couple of Deanna's parties, and we hang out once in a while, but that's all."

Daryl wasn't sure how he felt about that. Part of him thought they should have been back together by now, and was saddened to know they weren't. And then the other part of him was secretly happy they were still apart. "Well, all good things, all in good time."

"I sure hope so," Aaron said, and his eyes latched onto Daryl's for a split second that felt like forever.

Daryl broke the contact quickly, drank the rest of his beer and stood from the porch chair. It was a warm evening with a comfortable breeze, very enjoyable. He didn't want to go, but it seemed like a good time to split. "I better get going."

"You working tomorrow night?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah. I'm afraid you're on your own."

"I'll find something to do. I always do," Aaron said.

Daryl descended a couple stairs, when an idea came to him. "Hey, you got anything going on tomorrow morning?"

"No, why?"

Daryl smiled slyly. "I think we're due for another trip outside the gate. Bring your weapons."

"We going hunting?" Aaron asked eagerly.

"Better. We're going riding?"

* * *

The next morning, just after sunrise, Aaron showed at the gate with his equipment. Daryl was waiting for him with his motorcycle, wearing his leather vest with the wings on the back and his sleeveless t shirt underneath.

"You weren't kidding about riding, were you?" Aaron asked, noticing the motorcycle was the only transportation.

"You up for it? You can follow along in your car if you want, but you'll be missing out on all the fun," Daryl challenged.

"No, I want to ride. I just haven't before." Aaron sounded nervous suddenly.

"What are you talking about? You've ridden my bike before."

Aaron shrugged. "That was different. I drove your bike. I was in charge and I had total control. I've never surrendered and allowed someone else to drive."

Daryl got up close to Aaron, threatening him with a narrowed stare. "You saying you don't trust me?"

"I guess it sounded like that, but I do trust you. I trust you with my life. You know that. I just have a difficult time giving up the reins, so to say."

"So you're a control freak," Daryl jostled.

"Not always, but when it comes to driving a motorcycle or leaving my skin on the asphalt, I tend to want to be in control."

Daryl huffed a laugh at that comment and walked to his bike, throwing one leg over and straddling the seat. "You comin'?"

"What about helmets?" Aaron asked.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Get on and I'll drive back to my house for a damn helmet."

Aaron walked up to the bike and got on behind Daryl, but instead of heading back to his house, Daryl shot out the gate. Aaron's hands immediately went to Daryl middle, hanging on for dear life. Daryl smiled to himself, and said over his shoulder, "You ride with me, you don't need a helmet." He opened the throttle, and they sped down the road.

After a little while, Daryl felt Aaron loosen his grip, but he still held on. The feel of Aaron's hands on his waist gave him a small thrill that he'd rather not admit to, but one he was glad for. It made him think. Why was he so afraid to let go? There was no one holding him back now, only himself. When he was out like this, alone with no one but Aaron around, he wanted to free himself. There was no use denying what he was anymore. He'd always known, even when he was young, but he'd gotten so used to hiding the fact that he became someone else. Still, he liked who he was. He was a tough redneck that no one took any crap from, and those who wanted to challenge him usually got their ass whooped. He could still be that, couldn't he? But with Aaron, he could be the Daryl he hadn't spent much time with.

They were a long way out from Alexandria, and there was no fear of anyone coming along. Daryl approached a bridge and stopped halfway across. He waited for Aaron to get off the bike, and then he did too.

"Why are we stopping here?" Aaron asked. He scanned the area for any threats, holding his revolver in one hand just in case.

"So I could show you this," Daryl said, going to the railing and looking out across the land. There were trees as far as he could see, mountains lining the horizon, and winding through the woods below was a river rapidly flowing.

Aaron came over and stood next to him. "I've been this way dozens of times, but I never really looked."

"You miss a lot … when you're driving. You gotta stop and take it all in once in a while, just be in the moment." Daryl closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Smell that? Fresh pine."

Aaron copied Daryl's gestures and smiled. "Wow, it's amazing."

"That's the thing. In this fucked up world, so much has gone wrong. We're in survival mode all the time. We have to be. But that … out there … it's just getting better and better. This disease or plague or whatever you want to call it, it never touches that out there. People used to be the threat, but now we're the ones being threatened, and while we fight to stay alive, nature is prospering. She's claiming what we took from her, and making it more beautiful with every passing day. So if you don't slow down and appreciate it once in a while, you'll never even notice."

Both men stood in the middle of the bridge, leaning on the railing, looking out over the landscape. It was quiet here, and for a moment in time, they both felt safe. They stayed that way for the longest time, each man invested in his own thoughts. Daryl wasn't sure what Aaron was thinking, but as for himself, he was about to make a huge decision, one that would change everything for him. Like nature, Daryl was ready to claim something he should have owned up to a long time ago.

"I … I think I'm ready," Daryl said softly.

"Ready to head back?" Aaron asked, not picking up on what Daryl was admitting to.

"Not that kind of ready," Daryl hinted.

Aaron slowly turned his attention to Daryl. "Oh," he said.

Daryl didn't know if that meant, 'Oh, I misunderstood you,' or 'Oh, it's too late for that now'.

"Are you positive?" Aaron asked.

"No, but I won't ever be sure if I don't explore the part of myself that I've always avoided." He shifted his weight keeping his eyes on the scenery below. "You know how you said you trust me with your life? Well, I trust you with mine. But more than that, I trust you to help me understand this better."

"I had always hoped," Aaron said simply.

Daryl turned to look at him, finding the joy of knowing Daryl trusted him enough to ask this of him. Aaron closed the distance between them, his attention never wavering. He leaned into Daryl, their mouths only a hairs width apart, and whispered. "I'm glad it's me."

Daryl's heart was racing. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Aaron closed his eyes, leaving the decision to move forward with this up to Daryl. He was nervous, as he was about to finally discover what it felt like to kiss another man. Not only that, but to kiss Aaron. He closed the distance, tilted his head slightly, and barely brushed his lips across Aaron's. A jolt of excitement coursed through his body. It was nothing like the dream. It was so much better, and he wanted more. He wanted to feel the pressure of their lips connecting, wanted to know the sultriness of Aaron's tongue against his own, and to feel their bodies press together. He wanted to remember this first kiss for the rest of his days, and prepared to put each and every sensation to memory when . . .

Walkers … growling and grunting, sounding too close for comfort. Aaron broke away from Daryl before they completed their first kiss. Both men abandoned the moment and went into survival mode. At the other end of the bridge came a small heard of them. The stench was prominent, but caught up in the moment, neither man had noticed. Aaron raised his gun, but Daryl put his hand on his arm.

"There's too many of them. It's not worth wasting bullets. Let's go," Daryl said, jumping on his bike. Aaron did the same. Daryl looked back at the heard and yelled. "Can't give anyone a moment, can you, assholes?" He drove off heading back for the town. This time, Aaron wrapped his arms a little more around Daryl's waist, instead of just his hands grasping at his sides. It still felt good. It wasn't awkward at all. That surprised Daryl more than anything.

Daryl drove straight back to town. The gate guard must have heard his bike, because the gate was open when he pulled up. He went right inside and drove them to the weapons storage, where they turned in their guns. When they were done, Daryl hopped back on his bike. "Want me to give you a lift back to your house?"

"No, that's ok. I'll walk." The sun shone in Aaron's eyes, and he squinted, which made his lips curl into a smile. Daryl thought it wasn't just the sun making him grin. "Hey, you … uh … want to come over sometime?"

Daryl hid behind his tough exterior and glanced up the street as he answered. "Tomorrow?" He couldn't look at Aaron as he spoke, afraid someone would see them and figure them out.

"I really wish I could, but I kind of promised Eric I'd tag along to this party. It's a friend of ours, Julie. It's her birthday, and we planned on going a while back, when Eric and I were still together. She's turning forty, kind of a milestone."

"That's alright. I get it. You don't have to explain." Daryl was disappointed, but he tried not to let it show.

Aaron wasn't easily fooled, and he came up with a plan quickly. "Thursday night?"

Daryl kick started his engine and revved it a few times. When the roar subsided, he answered. "I'll mark my calendar."

"Good," Aaron smiled.

Daryl drove up the street, leaving Aaron behind to watch him. What the hell did he just agree to?

* * *

Daryl took a very long shower, used that green bar soap, and even used conditioner in his hair. He hoped it wasn't too much. He didn't want to seem eager. The truth was, he was anxious and nervous about what might happen tonight. Nothing had to happen actually. It could just end up being another evening spent in conversation while knocking back a few beers. He'd thought about visiting his source for some more moonshine, but thought better of it. If anything were to happen tonight, it needed to happen without any assistance from booze. Beer didn't count, though.

But what if something did happen tonight. Could he really go through with it? Could this redneck finally embrace what he'd kept secret all his life? He never thought he could, except for his trust in Aaron. It seemed natural to trust him. He had no doubts after all they'd seen and gone through together on the outside. From the first time, when Daryl caught him spying, he'd felt a certain comradery with Aaron. It was during their first time out together when they came upon that horse that Daryl knew he could trust the man. They'd come across walkers and saved each other's asses, saying thanks to one another, and creating their special bond. Both had wanted to save the horse, introduce it back into society, and both had been disappointed when the walkers trapped it. Aaron even took the liberty of putting the damn thing out of its misery. He earned Daryl's respect for the way he handled himself, not wasting a moment, doing it quickly without thinking about what he was doing. Neither man wanted the beast to suffer. It surprised Daryl at the time, because he thought Aaron was soft-hearted from his first impression. All his nervous joking and smiling as he tried to save his ass when the women brought him to the barn to talk to Rick made Daryl think he was weak. It was just the opposite. It took balls for him to do what he did. And anyone who could take a punch in the jaw from Rick, get knocked out, and wake up with a smile was either a fool, or a brave son of a bitch. Hell, he was brave the first time he hinted around and asked Daryl if he was like him. Any other time with any other person, Daryl would have laid him out flat without hesitation. Again, it was that underlying bond they shared that stilled Daryl fist, as well as his temper. So tonight, if Aaron asked more from him, what would he do?

Daryl looked in the mirror. His hair hadn't been this clean in a long time. Jessie did a good job cutting it. It fell just into his eyes, and when he brushed it, it feathered back. When did he ever look this decent, he wondered. His goatee and mustache could have used another shaping, but he didn't worry too much about it. And then he thought about the last time he cared about his appearance. Never was his answer. He never cared what anyone thought before. Shit, was he losing his edge? If he went through with this tonight, would he become some pansy ass bitch?

"Alright, I'm not going to over do this or over think it," he said to calm himself. It was only clean hair and deodorant soap. A t-shirt and jeans would be good enough. No need to get too gussied up.

Finally, it was time to go. Daryl left his house and headed out for Aaron's home. It was a comfortable summer evening, the kind that would be good for sitting around a fire, drinking hooch, and listening to Merle tell one of his exaggerated stories. The thought of his brother made his stomach knot up. Not tonight, Daryl thought hard to himself. No room for ghosts tonight. He was starting a new chapter in his life. The old one needed to be left far behind.

He passed a few residents out for a stroll. Daryl nodded, but kept his head down. He didn't want to engage in any kind of conversation right now. He just wanted to get to Aaron's house. Aaron, he thought. What would they do first? Would they start out sharing their usual conversation? Would Aaron kiss him right away? They'd been so close yesterday. Their lips touched, but right when Daryl was about to apply pressure, those damn walkers showed. Maybe that was a sign. Perhaps this wasn't the right time to do this. What if it was Merle sending a message from wherever he ended up, which was probably hell. As kids growing up, anytime they were about to do something they shouldn't do, Merle would threaten him, and say he'd come back and haunt his little brother if anything happened to him. If he knew what Daryl really was, he'd probably come back as an evil spirit and beat the shit out of him. Daryl could almost hear him. _'Don't make me come up there and kick your ass. You're a redneck, not some fag about to get buggered.'_

In one swift movement, Daryl turned on his heel as though he was going to go back home and forget about the whole evening. Panic set in when he heard his brother's voice, as though he was standing right behind him. "Shit," Daryl complained, repeating the word as his hand reached up and combed through his hair. "It's not real. Merle's dead," he said. His thoughts went to Aaron and their missed moment on the bridge, the way Aaron closed his eyes and waited for Daryl to make his decision. He'd taken the moment to study the man's features, the straight bridge of his nose, his light mustache and the soft stubble of a beard beginning to show, his lips, the way the bottom one was larger than the top, set in a permanent pout, lips that were just begging to be kissed.

He'd convinced himself to follow through with his original plans, turned, and started walking towards Aaron's house again. "What the hell," he complained to himself. "I don't answer to the dead or the past anymore. I'm my own man, old enough to make my own decisions, and it's about damn time I started living for myself. So, fuck you, Merle."

" _The way I remember it, it's you who got fucked_ ," said a bone chilling voice breaking through the thin veil of protection. This man's voice would always haunt him … Jay. " _Seems like you should be thanking me for … opening you up to this whole experience_."

Daryl stopped and clutched the sides of his head, trying to chase the voice out. He moved from the sidewalk he was walking along, and ducked between a couple houses. He braced his hand on the siding of one house, and bent forward, feeling sick to his stomach as Jay's voice and the smells of the garage came rushing back to him. "Leave me alone," he whispered desperately. His breath quickened. He was starting to panic.

"They don't control you anymore," Daryl remembered Aaron saying to him. "They thought they had all the answers. They thought they knew it all, but where are they now? You're the survivor, Daryl, not them. Follow your instincts. Follow your heart."

His instincts were telling him to push away the fear and doubt. His heart was telling him to go to Aaron. If anything, he could find peace of mind there. He calmed himself and caught his breath. He looked around to see where he was. Daryl came out from between the houses, winding up a street over. He recognized one of them. Aaron's house was behind it on the next street. He'd just cut between them and get there faster. If anything, he just needed to talk to Aaron and help chase the voices away.

Daryl looked up and down the street, but it was clear. There were a few vacant houses in this area, and he didn't expect to see anyone walking around. He crossed the street quickly, and slipped between two homes. Aaron's house was just behind the one on the left. He paused half way between them, took a deep breath, and ran his fingers through his freshly washed hair. He didn't like it. Daryl felt more like himself with a little dirt and grease in his hair. While he pulled himself together and reached for the courage to go through with his plan, he thought he heard voices. They were coming from Aaron's house. Daryl moved to the narrow alley that ran between the homes. He saw Aaron's backyard, with its flower gardens and herb gardens bursting with life. No one was outside, at least not out back, and there were no lights on. Daryl walked forward, moving between Aaron's house and the vacant one on the right. He could tell that the front porch light was on. It illuminated the walkway where it spilled out from the side of the porch. He could still hear voices very quietly speaking, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Was someone at Aaron's house? Should he even continue on? What would it look like if someone saw him pop out from between homes, creeping from the shadows? Curiosity got the best of him, though. He wanted to know who was at Aaron's house and make sure it wasn't someone starting any trouble. He moved forward until he was at the edge of the house, still hiding in the dark.

"Please, Aaron." It was Eric. "I know we had our differences, but I want to make another go at this."

"We tried, Eric, and it just fell apart," Aaron responded.

"I know, and it was my fault. I was the one who was out of control. I let my jealousy and anger get in the way. I should never have threatened you like that," Eric pleaded. "But you're all I have in this world. You know how difficult it is, and you were always there for me. Two years is a lot to throw away."

"I'm not throwing it away," Aaron said, surprising Daryl. "I'm glad for every moment of it."

"Then take me back and let's try this again. I've learned a lot. I'm a changed man, but the one thing that hasn't changed are my feelings for you," Eric said, trying to convince Aaron.

No one spoke, and Daryl wondered what was happening. When Aaron spoke to him about Eric, he made it clear that he didn't love Eric, but that his interest was in Daryl. Aaron had remained friends with Eric, but he decided it was best that they weren't in a relationship anymore. Daryl suddenly felt bad for Eric, begging Aaron to take him back when there was no hope in it. Maybe Daryl should make his presence known, and end the awkward moment for both of them. He would just stroll out and pretend like he was here just to hang out and drink some beer. Eric would leave, no harm done. He knew Daryl came by every once in a while just to kick back and shoot the breeze. No one had to be the wiser. Daryl straightened his t-shirt, slicked back his hair and walked casually out from between the houses. He came around the corner of the porch and stood at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up and started to speak, but froze by what he saw. Eric and Aaron were kissing. Eric's hands were at Aaron's waist as Aaron's arms hung at his sides. Daryl felt all the blood in his body pool in his stomach. It felt like his heart stopped beating, and his mouth went dry. In the distance of his mind, he heard Jay laughing at him, and Merle telling him to man up.

Here before him was the one person he trusted most in this world, the one he finally shared his secret with, who he was willing to give himself to as he discovered his true identity, and Daryl finds him making out with his former lover. What the hell? Aaron knew he was coming over tonight. Why would he be here kissing Eric when he knew Daryl would arrive at any moment? Was he playing some kind of game, because Daryl didn't like to play. Daryl was straight forward and no nonsense. It was either black or white, no grey.

Aaron gently pushed Eric away, breaking the kiss. "Eric, I can't."

"Seems like you can to me," Daryl blurted out, and both men turned with shocked faces.

Aaron stepped away from Eric, as though he wasn't even there. "Shit. Oh shit. Daryl. I swear, it's not what it looks like."

"Really? Because it looks exactly like it to me. Little hard to say it was anything else," Daryl seethed in a low tone.

"Wait a minute," Eric said, displaying bad timing. He pretended to be dumbfounded, even though he had a conversation with Daryl not long ago. "Are you and … Daryl–"

"What? No," Aaron said on the defensive. "I mean, not yet … or actually–"

"Actually, no," Daryl finished for him. "We're definitely not." There was venom in his words.

Aaron started to descend the steps. "Daryl, let me explain."

"I gotta go," Daryl said dryly and turned away from him.

"Please, just hear me out," Aaron begged, following Daryl.

Daryl stopped short and rounded on Aaron, getting in his face. He was so angry that he felt the heat rising up his neck. "I trusted you," he said slow and deliberately while shoving his chest out like he did when he wanted a fight. "Stay away from me. I see you again, I'll fuck you up. Hear me? I will not hesitate to kick your ass … make Rick's punch seem like a trip to Disney World." He ended with a hard shove, almost knocking Aaron to the sidewalk, but he caught himself. Daryl heard a quiet huff from Eric and looked up to see him smiling smugly. "And don't you ever ask anything of me again, you dick." Daryl marched off up the street, but he could hear Aaron start interrogating Eric about Daryl's comment.

Daryl was hurt, but more than that, he was confused. What was he thinking, opening up to someone like that? He'd been a fool, that's what he was. He let his guard down when all along he should have remained aloof like he usually was. No one got hurt when he kept to himself. What kind of shit was this anyways? Aaron was playing Daryl while at the same time he was keeping Eric on a string. Daryl knew better. He fucking knew better than to go examining those urges that caught him off guard. Every time he did, he was the one who got screwed, and not in a good way. Jay may have raped him of his innocence, but Aaron stripped him of his trust. Daryl would never trust another living soul with his secret, never again.

He was so upset that he decided he couldn't stay. He had to get out of the walls. No doubt, Aaron would come looking for him, full of lame excuses and apologies. He would seriously hurt Aaron if he saw him right now. So, Daryl went to the weapons room to get his things, but at this late hour, no one was there. He walked around the building, trying other doors, but they were all locked up. There was a window on one side, and he tried it, but it was locked too. He knew there was an alarm system on the weapons room, so if he tried to break in, it would go off. Just as that thought occurred to him, the low hum of the generators ceased. Houses went dark as candles were lit. He'd forgotten that they were having trouble with some of the power sources and to conserve energy until replacement parts could be found, the power was turned off every night at eleven.

Daryl looked around and found a decent sized rock. He went back to the window, mumbling to himself. "I'm getting my fucking weapons." Next thing he knew, he threw the rock and broke the glass. He knocked the broken edges away with his elbow, climbed in, found his crossbow and guns, and climbed back out. No alarm sounded. No one was around. If he came upon anyone who tried to stop him, he'd threaten to shoot them.

Luckily for Daryl, no one stopped him because no one was out in the streets at that late hour. He went home, hopped on his bike and rode to the gate. There was always someone at the gate, and they let him out. He told them he just needed some space. The guard asked him no questions, and he was gone. He got out on the open stretch of road and kept going. It wasn't smart to be out at night or alone, but he didn't care about common sense laws at that point. As a matter of fact, it would feel good to kill some walkers about now. He suddenly needed to get rid of the stench of the soap and his clean smooth hair. Everything was too clean and neat in Alexandria. It was changing him, turning him into someone he had never been. He had a house and running water, a fridge full of food, and a ceramic top stove to cook it on. And that damn picket fence that every house had, it was enough to make him sick. He'd never had any of these things growing up. He didn't need it now. Daryl grew up in a rundown trailer in the backwoods wilderness. He didn't need any of that fancy shit to survive. He didn't need anyone to survive. He made it for a long time before he met up with that group in Atlanta. He knew how to track and how to hunt. He could build a fire. Hell, he could live off the land. That's who he really was. That's the Daryl that he knew. He didn't need some town with high walls to feel safe. All those people were weak. They were just sitting ducks, waiting for hell to break loose. Alexandria may have taken him in, fed him, cured him, bathed him, dressed him, but it also changed him. He became too trusting, just like that horse. As soon as it let its guard down, chaos came in and destroyed it. Daryl trusted Aaron, and look where that got him, but unlike the horse, Daryl got out before he became trapped and eaten. Fuck them all, he thought, and fuck Aaron for breaking his trust.

His rage built to an unbearable level, and if he didn't do something about it, he thought he'd explode. Traveling along on his bike, he hadn't noticed much of anything. Now he was looking for something to kill. He didn't have to wait long. Up ahead he saw a couple of walkers stumbling along the side of the road. Daryl stopped and jumped off his bike in one swift move. He took his cross bow from his back and nocked an arrow, raised it and shot the first one in the head. The second one kept coming towards him. He returned the bow to his back and pulled out his large hunting knife. Daryl strode determinedly towards the walker, the nasty thing getting excited as he looked at him like food. Daryl played with it a moment, like a cat playing with a mouse. He knew he shouldn't risk it. This was a very dangerous game he was playing, but he wanted to savor the kill. He needed to know he still had his moves and his stealth. The town hadn't changed him so much that he couldn't fight anymore. It was all still there. When he felt confident enough, he plunged his knife into the dead thing's head, and it slumped to the ground at his feet. But Daryl wasn't done yet. He needed more. He needed to keep killing until his body ached, to get so grungy he would be unrecognizable.

"Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, and then whistled loudly. Eventually, three walkers stumbled out of the woods and came towards him. Daryl smiled and bounced eagerly on his feet. "Must be my lucky day," he said to himself, eyes narrowed, lips half curled in a smile. "Come to papa."

He pulled the arrow from the first walker and ran up to one of the approaching ones, stabbing it through the eye and into the brain. As it fell, Daryl held onto the arrow and it slid off, falling to the ground. He took his bow, nocked the same bloody arrow and shot the second walker. The third one got a knife in the head, but it still wasn't enough. Daryl needed more, and foolishly trotted off into the trees to find them. There they were, walkers heading for the road, following the noise. "Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and prepare to be amazed," Daryl called out like a crazed carney.

The dead followed him, and he led them to the road. One by one, they came out of the trees. One by one, Daryl killed them, staining the asphalt with blood and gore. He was in the zone, thinking of nothing but the kill, in full survival mode, but he was in control at the same time, or so he thought. As he was busy taking out the walkers emerging from the woods on one side of the road, he didn't notice the ones coming out from the opposite side until he heard a growl too close behind him. He spun around and found a group of about twenty coming towards him, along with the ones he'd been watching. He was about to be overpowered. There were too many for one man to fight. Daryl may have been in a blind rage, but he knew when it was time to stop, and he ran to his bike, jumped on and took off past the advancing walkers. He looked back over his shoulder, seeing just how close he came to being swallowed up by the small heard. He felt undefeatable, invincible, more like his old self. Daryl stood and raised one arm in the air while still driving with the other. He shouted in victory while pumping his fist above his head. "Not today, motherfuckers. You can't kill this redneck. Daryl Dixon lives to see another day. Woo Hoo!" he ranted like a lunatic.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 It Was Good Until It Wasn't**

Aaron's head was reeling. What the hell had just happened? One minute, he was anxiously waiting for Daryl to come over. The next thing he knows, Eric is at his door, begging him to come back. And out of nowhere, Eric grabs him and kisses him. Paralyzed with shock, Aaron couldn't move fast enough to push him away, and suddenly there was Daryl playing witness to the whole thing, or at least the kiss. How could everything go so wrong this quickly?

What hurt the most was the hate and rage that instantly filled Daryl's dark eyes and his murderous stare. Aaron tried to explain, but Daryl wouldn't have any of it. His mind was already set, and he'd seen Aaron as a traitor. When Daryl walked away, Aaron went after him, only to find himself being threatened. For a moment he was sure Daryl was going to beat the shit out of him, but something stayed the man's fist from bloodying his face. At that point, Aaron felt like it was justice due if Daryl laid him out. Instead, Daryl pushed him, and for the first time, Aaron felt his true power. Daryl was like a storm brewing, his push like a gust of wind, and his punch would have been like a lightning strike. Aaron was lucky. He also wasn't stupid, and knew better than to keep following Daryl. Instead, he let him go. There'd be time to talk after he cooled down a bit. Right now, something Daryl said to Eric was bothering him. Aaron marched back up the porch steps and confronted Eric.

"What is he talking about?" Aaron asked.

"What?" Eric said innocently.

"He said you came to him about something. Did you tell Daryl to leave me alone? Is that why he quit the recruiter position? What the hell did you say to him?" Aaron demanded.

"I might have mentioned something," Eric said, still trying to avoid a fight, but Aaron raised his fist. "Alright, alright. I asked him to step away. I told him it wasn't fair to you that he should keep you hanging by a thread waiting for him to decide. I told him that if he didn't have feelings for you, or if he didn't swing that way to begin with, he should let you go, because … because I wanted you back in my life. As long as you were pining over Daryl, I knew you'd never give me a second glance."

Aaron looked at Eric with disbelief, his brows furrowing together as it all started to make sense. "What the fuck, Eric? Why would you play him like that?"

"I love you, Aaron. I just want us to get back to the way things used to be."

Aaron ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "The way things used to be was an illusion. It's my fault. I should have said this earlier, but … I was lost. I was desperate. I came to Alexandria, and there you were, someone like me, a gay man just as lonely and desperate as I was. I thought I could learn to love you the way you loved me, but instead I became your keeper, your guardian. I protected you, fought for you, tried to turn you into someone you're not. I tried to train you to become a fighter, started taking you with me on runs. It worked for a while. We made a good team, but when you got hurt, I realized how very dangerous it was for you. It just isn't in you to be like me, and it was wrong of me to try to make you like that."

"But Daryl's like that, isn't he?" Eric asked with venom tinging his words.

There was no use denying any of it. The only way to make Eric face the truth was to tell him everything. "Daryl came along, and … I don't know … we just clicked. He was like me, a warrior, probably even more so. He'd been out there longer than me, seen more shit than me, experienced more." Aaron hung his head, unable to look at Eric as he continued. "I'm sorry, Eric, but it's Daryl I want to be with." Aaron looked down the street, but it was empty now. Daryl was gone, and Aaron might have ruined any chance of being with him now.

"Why?" Eric seethed. "Why did you lead me on like this? You said you wanted to be friends again."

"And I did. I do."

"But you took me to Deanna's dinner socials and Julie's birthday party. We went for walks, and sometimes we'd stay up all night just talking. I thought we were getting back together."

"We were doing things that friends do together, nothing more," Aaron said.

Eric turned from him, and Aaron could see his shoulders heaving. "For two years I thought you loved me, and I put everything I had into our relationship. Now you're telling me it was all a lie, and you'd rather run after some screwed up redneck who may or may not be like us. You're willing to toss away the two years we had together for someone who might never be able to return the same feelings. I tell you that I love you, and that I want to be with you, but some dirty trailer trash douchebag who was ready to beat the shit out of you means more to you than all of the love I've shown you."

Aaron didn't like him talking about Daryl like that, but he understood his anger, and didn't say anything. Instead, Aaron put a hand on Eric's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn't have led you so far into believing what we had was nothing less than perfect. I thought that over time my heart would change. Every day I wished for that. I care about you, Eric. Why do you think I told you I didn't want you going out on runs with me anymore? I feared for your safety. It would have killed me if anything ever happened to you. I couldn't stand it when you got hurt that last time. It was too close. I thought I failed you. But even after all of that, my heart … it just … I can't … and I've tried and I'm so sorry. I … I-I don't love you in that way."

Eric jerked his shoulder away from Aaron's touch. "I can't be here right now. I have to go." He left without looking back, leaving Aaron alone on the porch. Within just a matter of minutes, Aaron lost the two people who meant the most to him. How did things get so screwed up so fast?

Just then, the lights went out. Eleven o'clock, Aaron thought to himself. He went inside and sat in the dark with his head in his hands. All he could think of was Daryl's rage filled face, and all he could hear was the disappointment in his voice when he said he couldn't trust him anymore. Aaron never felt like such a failure, not since the day he came out to his parents and they responded poorly. This was worse, though. These were the last two people Aaron completely trusted and cared for, and he had alienated them both. He really was a failure, he told himself, as he laid down on the couch to sulk the night away.

* * *

The next morning, Aaron heard about the break in at the weapons room while on his way to look for Daryl. He'd decided he needed to confront him. Even if Daryl punched him in the face, at least he'd know where he stood with the man. Aaron stopped the woman who he heard talking about the break in to her friend. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear you. Do you happen to know what weapons were taken?"

"I heard a couple guns went missing, maybe a crossbow, but I can't be sure," the woman replied.

"Thanks," Aaron said and rushed off to Daryl's house. When he got there, Rick, Maggie, and Michonne were already there. Rick and Michonne were in their cop uniforms, probably investigating the break in, but Aaron knew this case was more personal.

Maggie approached him first. "Hey, Aaron, have you seen Daryl?"

"I saw him briefly last night, but not this morning. Something wrong?" Aaron asked, pretending that he didn't know anything.

"There were some weapons stolen last night. A window was broken. That's how the person got in. No alarm went off, so it must have happened after the power went down. The thing is, the missing weapons belonged to Daryl, and now he's nowhere to be found."

Rick came out of Daryl's house. "The bike is gone too. Daryl's spit town."

"I'll talk to the gate guard, find out about what time he left," Michonne added.

While everyone was talking and trying to figure out what happened, Carol showed up. "Hi Aaron," she greeted with a kind smile. "What's going on?"

Aaron told her about the missing weapons, motorcycle, and the now missing Daryl. Carol cocked her head to one side and observed Aaron. He'd come to realize that she was good at reading people, and Aaron felt like an open book this morning. She waited until the others were out of earshot before she spoke. "Would you happen to know anything about this?" she asked with a gentle motherly voice.

"Maggie already asked me if–"

"I'm asking now," Carol interrupted. There was something about Carol that Aaron couldn't quite put his finger on. She was always kind, almost too kind to the point of suspicion, as if she was covering up her true identity. He got the feeling that you didn't dare cross Carol or you'd find out more about her than you wanted to know.

"Daryl came by my house last night. He wasn't there long and we had an argument," Aaron explained.

"Argument about what?" she asked kindly.

"I … I can't say. It's not up to me to divulge that information," Aaron told her. He'd sworn to Daryl he would never tell anyone about his personal life.

Carol got real close and whispered in his ear. "If this is about Daryl then you can and you will tell me everything you know." She backed away and smiled sweetly, but there was something feral in her eyes.

Aaron released the breath he was holding, and pleaded with his eyes, hoping she would understand. "I'm sorry. I swore to him that I wouldn't–"

"Carol," Rick said, walking up behind them without their knowledge. Aaron felt very out of place. These were Daryl's people. They had never completely trusted Aaron, and he was sure they thought he had something to do with Daryl's disappearance. At least Carol had made that very clear.

Carol smiled at Rick. "I was just asking Aaron if he knew anything. Seems he doesn't. Daryl came by his house briefly last night, and then he left." Aaron noticed she didn't say anything about an argument.

"What time, do you remember?" Rick asked.

"Maybe somewhere between ten and ten thirty," Aaron answered honestly.

"Lights out is at eleven," Maggie said. "That's when the weapons would have had to been stolen."

"Maybe Daryl just needed to get out of here for a while. You know how it is," Michonne suggested.

"Yeah," Rick agreed, "but he wouldn't have broken into the weapons room. He was desperate to leave, but why?"

"Well, I'm going to see the gate guard who was on duty last night. If I find out anything, I'll let you know right away," Michonne said before she left the group. Maggie and Rick finished talking to Carol and Aaron, and then they left too.

Carol was the only one who stayed behind, and Aaron knew he was in trouble when she wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Let's take a little walk, shall we?" They walked until they were alone where no one could hear them. Then she released him, crossed her arms and stared at him with daggers darting from her eyes. "I know you had something to do with this, Aaron. You are going to tell me the truth, and tell me everything you know or so help me, the next time you go out on a run you'll conveniently wind up missing."

"I can't," Aaron responded.

"Talk!" she demanded.

"All I can tell you is that Daryl came by my house, we had an argument, and then he left," Aaron admitted.

"What was the argument about?" Carol interrogated.

"It wasn't so much what we said, but what he saw that pissed him off. He threatened to hit me if I followed him or ever spoke to him again, and then he was gone."

"That's not enough to go on. Listen, I know Daryl pretty well by now, and I know he'd never break into the weapons room unless he was desperate to get out of here. So something had to happen to make him break the rules. You need to tell me what you were arguing about. It might help me to figure out where he went. He's been gone all night, and he's alone out there. That's not good. Now speak!"

She was right. Being outside at night and alone was about the worst situation someone could be in. What if his bike broke down? What if he came upon that heard of roamers Deanna was worried about. Yes, he'd sworn never to tell anyone about Daryl's secret, but it could mean a matter of life or death now.

Carol smiled again, in that motherly way, fixed the collar of Aaron's shirt, and looked up into his eyes. "I understand how loyal you are to Daryl, and I appreciate that in a person. You're a good man, Aaron, and I respect you, but Daryl is my family, and I'm very worried for him. If you care about him too, you'll tell me what you know."

"I would never do this under any other circumstances. I'd die first before I broke a promise to Daryl, but I understand the desperation of the situation. However, I'll ask that you be sworn to secrecy for what I'm about to tell you, and if you care about Daryl as much as I do, you'll never tell another living soul."

Carol smiled and raised her hand, holding up the first three fingers. "Girl scout honor, I promise."

Aaron looked around to make sure they were still alone, and they were. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, preparing himself. "I'm only telling you this because I know you're his best friend, and you're just as worried about him as I am." He paused. "Alright. I invited Daryl to my house last night, but while I was waiting for him to show, Eric stopped by."

"What's so strange about that? I thought you and Eric were a couple," Carol said.

"We used to be, but not anymore," Aaron told her.

"Ok, go on," she gestured.

"Eric showed up unexpectedly, begging me to take him back. I told him I couldn't, and that I just wanted to remain friends, but he wouldn't listen. Then he kissed me, and I didn't know what to do, I was so thrown off by it. In the meantime, Daryl showed up and found us like that."

"So are you saying he saw you kissing Eric and was so offended that he ran away, broke into the room, stole his own weapons and left town without telling anyone? That doesn't make sense."

"It does if you know that Daryl and I were about to … embark on something new."

Carol had no words. She stared blankly through Aaron. "Wait, are you telling me Daryl is … and you are … and you and him–"

"Yes," Aaron answered tersely.

"My Daryl? My tough skinned, redneck, hillbilly, kick your ass for looking at him the wrong way Daryl?"

Aaron nodded. "He'd been through a lot throughout his life, and it's something that's always been an underlying complication for him, but lately, he's been opening up and facing things, and … well . . ."

"You know, that would explain why I've never seen him interested in any of the women in our group. Even I tried, though subtly, and got nowhere," she reminisced.

"Please don't say anything to anyone, but especially Daryl," Aaron begged.

"You have my word. So, what happened? Daryl came by to see you, but found you and Eric lip locked?" she asked for clarification.

"I tried to explain that Eric initiated the whole thing. He came by unexpectedly, and it was Eric that kissed me. I pushed him away, but not before Daryl saw us together. I went after him to try and explain, but he threatened my life, so I let him go. Honestly, I feel horrible, and if something has happened to him because of this misunderstanding, I'll . . ." His words ran out as emotions bubbled in his chest.

"You really do like him, don't you?" she asked.

"I do. I care for him deeply, which is why it's killing me right now."

"I think perhaps he's gone off somewhere to lick his wounds. He's done it in the past. Daryl always comes back in a day or two. Let me handle things with Rick and the others, and I promise not to say a word, alright?"

Aaron nodded in compliance. They'd just have to sit and wait this one out, and hope Daryl would be back by tomorrow.

Something wasn't sitting right with Aaron, and he was restless over the next couple days. By the third day, he couldn't take it anymore. Too much time had passed with no sign of Daryl. He was beside himself with worry, and he wasn't the only one.

He decided to confront Rick, and find out if any of Daryl's group had heard something. When he got to Rick's house, other members of the group were already there, discussing Daryl's whereabouts.

"Aaron, I'm surprised to see you," Rick said after answering the door and inviting Aaron in.

"I just wanted to know if anyone knows anything," Aaron said, and his eyes swept quickly around the room. Maggie and Glenn were there, Michonne, Carol, a few young women who Aaron didn't know, and the Army sergeant, Abraham. It was Abraham who approached Aaron first.

"According to Rick, you're the last person to see Daryl," Abraham said in a threatening voice.

"Besides the gate guard, I suppose you're right," Aaron answered agreeably. The last thing he wanted was for this quite large fellow becoming upset.

"And it's my understanding that you exchanged words?" Rick asked, coming up beside Abraham.

"Yes," Aaron said, feeling as though he was being ganged up on.

"And did you have some kind of argument?" Rick continue.

"We did, but it was very brief."

"And what was it about?" Rick asked.

"It, uh … it was … it was nothing, really, but … well I … uh," Aaron stammered.

Suddenly, Carol came forward and Aaron froze. "It was about the recruitment runs they used to go on together. Daryl wanted back in, but Aaron already found someone else." She stopped and gave Aaron a look that said, _'Ok, you take it from here.'_

"Yeah, uh," Aaron got his thoughts together quickly. "He wanted to go with me on the next run. I told him I had to replace him when he told Deanna he didn't want that job anymore. I mean, I'd happily take Daryl back as a partner. He's the best tracker I know, but I can't just put him back in. There are rules to follow. Personally, I think he just wanted to get back out there … feel needed again, more so than sitting in a watchtower half the night. You know?" He glanced at Carol, who gave a slight nod of her head. Aaron was shocked that she was helping him to cover the real reason Daryl left. He just wasn't sure it was a convincing lie, and the glare Rick was giving him said maybe it wasn't.

"And you think that was enough to make him decide to break into the weapons room?" Rick asked skeptically.

Carol came forward again. "You know how it is, Rick, the need to get out there and make a difference. I've done it. You've done it. We can hardly get Sasha to stay inside the gates. And you know Daryl has never really adjusted to life in Alexandria." She huffed a breath of air. "Maybe if they didn't take our weapons every time we stepped foot in town, we'd feel like we had a little more control."

"And there isn't someone on duty in the weapons room 24/7, although maybe there should be," Aaron added. He smiled nervously. "Would it really be as big a deal if Daryl checked out his weapons instead of breaking a window and retrieving them in the middle of the night?"

Rick's eyes narrowed dangerously as he took two big strides towards Aaron so that he was standing directly in front of him. "It's a big deal because Daryl took off without telling anyone where he was going. It's a big deal because he's been gone for three days and no one has seen or heard from him." Rick's voice rose in anger with every word.

Aaron didn't back down, though. He stood his ground and considered Rick pugnaciously. "Hey, I'm just as concerned. Look, you all know Daryl. He's like family to you. Well, I know him too. We've become pretty good friends as recruiting partners, and I care what happens to him. Why do you think I came here? I agree with you, Rick. Daryl has been gone too long, even for him."

Rick considered Aaron a moment, and then he turned to the rest of his people. "We need to pair up and go out looking for him. If we each take a different area, we can cover more ground."

Aaron interrupted Rick, who looked like he'd had just about enough. "Before you send out a search party, I'd like the chance to find him. After all, it feels like it's my fault he took off in the first place."

Rick rounded on him. "You want to go out there by yourself and find Daryl?"

"I think I might know where he went."

"Well, if you'd just tell us, we can go and stop wasting time–"

Aaron shook his head. "I can't just give you directions. It takes a good tracker to find this place."

Michonne gave a cynical laugh. "And it just so happens we are missing our one good tracker."

"No, you're not," Aaron replied.

Abraham's eyebrows shot up. "You? You can track?"

"Who do you think taught me? When things got slow out there, Daryl started teaching me all he knew," Aaron said.

"It's true," Glenn spoke up. "Aaron's gone on a couple of runs with me. He knows his stuff."

"Please, let me go out there and find him," Aaron pleaded with the group. "I feel like it's my fault he's gone, and I'd like to make things right."

Rick seemed like he was giving in, but he wasn't completely convinced. "I don't know. You say you know Daryl and that you're friends, but none of us know you very well."

Carol went to Rick and laid a gentle hand on his arm. She spoke lightly. "I think you should let him go."

"By himself?" Rick countered. "You know what it's like out there. We're already missing one person. We don't need to lose another one."

"I trust Aaron, and I think you should too. Give him the chance to make things right," Carol said sweetly, but Aaron remembered her threat from earlier. Carol was the type of person who you really wanted to be on her good side, because there was some whole other dark thing going on there.

Rick paced back and forth a few times. He stopped in front of Aaron and glared. "Fine, but you be back here by tomorrow afternoon, and you better have Daryl with you."

"Tomorrow? That's not a lot of time," Aaron said.

"That's all you get," Rick demanded. There'd be no negotiating.

Aaron nodded in compliance. "I need to go now, then. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to–"

"Go!" Rick said with lost patience.

Carol took Aaron's hands and squeezed. "Just bring him back."

Aaron smiled, seeing the love and concern she had for Daryl. Everyone in his group was concerned. Aaron wondered if Daryl knew just how much these people needed him and cared about him. This was something he definitely needed to know. He was nowhere near as alone as he thought he was.

* * *

Daryl had been hunting for nearly three days. He'd lost track of time, though. All he knew was that the sun went up and the sun went down, and he was still around to witness it. He'd almost cleared an area by himself, leaving a trail of motionless walkers in his wake. He wished he could keep going, but his body was shutting down. As long as he had to concentrate on killing, he didn't have to remember why he was out here in the first place. But he couldn't do much more. His arms and legs were sore. His hair was caked with grime and gore. His fingernails were split and broken. His body was scratched and bruised from some of the rough terrain he had to navigate. He was done, and he didn't think he could take another step. Daryl didn't know where he was. He'd left his bike parked along the side of the road, hidden poorly by some underbrush nearby, but he didn't have the energy to go back. He had headed off into the woods, killing walkers as he went, and now he was lost. Actually, he wasn't really lost. He could always find his way back to a road that would lead him somewhere. He just didn't have the will to do it now.

He needed shelter, a place where he could crash for a while, let his body recharge. Daryl stumbled through the woods, not looking much different from a walker. He looked down at his body, and realized he still wore the same jeans and t-shirt he picked out to wear to see Aaron. A sharp pain like cold steel shot through his chest. He couldn't think about that now. It would just wear him out. But it was too late, Aaron had already entered his mind. Embarrassment came first, followed by anger. Daryl told him things he swore he'd never repeat again. He told Aaron about being raped, but not only that. He shared some very personal emotions that happened during that awful time, stuff Daryl had never said out loud before. And then, just recently, he told Aaron that he wanted him. 'I'm ready', he had said … ready to give into his secret desires, to explore the part of him he'd kept hidden away for years. He was going to Aaron to submit himself, to give himself over to the only person he'd ever bonded with and trusted. But Daryl was betrayed, finding Aaron in an intimate kiss with Eric. Why did Aaron lead him on if he knew he still wanted Eric? Maybe he just wanted to be the one to tame the wild beast. He should have known better. It didn't turn out so well for that horse, and it didn't turn out well for Daryl. As soon as he saw it, the image of them kissing burned into the backs of his eyelids, and then he heard Jay's voice laughing, as well as his father and brother. The ghosts were very prompt to that party, driving him insane with their ridicule.

Daryl tripped over a fallen branch and fell to his knees. The laughing subsided as he came back to the conscious world. "I can't keep doing this," he told himself. "I gotta find–" And it instantly struck him … the cabin. He knew where he left his bike, and he had a general idea of the direction he'd been going. It shouldn't be far. He could crash at the cabin, clean up and get his shit together. He knew he could kill all the walkers in the world, it wouldn't make him feel any better. Hunting had just helped occupy his mind so he didn't have to feel the pain of rejection. Sooner or later, he'd have to face it. He couldn't stay out here forever. His people would begin to wonder where he was, and if he knew Rick, it wouldn't be much longer before he sent out a search party. He should probably go back before they did that, but he couldn't face the town right now. Mainly, he couldn't face Aaron. He couldn't seem to get him off his mind either. He'd just have to try harder.

Finally, Daryl found the hidden cabin. He did his usual routine, checking to make sure it was still vacant, no visitors living or dead. The place was empty. First things first. He needed to get out of his nasty clothes and get clean. He didn't like tracking the stench into the pristine cabin, so he went straight to the shower, stuffing the befouled clothes into a plastic bag from the kitchen. He would need to burn them, but decided to do it in the morning. Daryl stood under the raining shower water, and just let it wash away all the dirt and grime. He wished it would wash away everything else, but he wasn't so lucky. His thoughts went back to Aaron.

Shit, how could he have been so trusting? Daryl only trusted a few people in his life. Beth had been one, but she was gone. Carol was the other, but he had never told her about his secret life. She knew everything else, about his rough upbringing, the beatings from his father, the verbal abuse from his brother. He knew about Carol too, her abusive husband and her miserable marriage. So why hadn't he shared the rest of his story with her? He figured that the time was never right, maybe it never would be. Didn't matter. He wasn't going to revisit those desires ever again. He would just live a life of solitude, keep everyone at arm's length just to be on the safe side. It was all bullshit anyways.

Eventually, Daryl emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, and went to the master bedroom where he searched until he found a pair of slacks and an undershirt, something he normally wouldn't be caught dead in. That was good enough for now. He knew there were other clothes in the spare bedrooms, but he didn't want to go in there right now. He was having a hard enough time seeing all the little things that reminded him of the time he had spent here with Aaron. This was the place where he had told Aaron his secret, revealing all the things that Daryl thought made him weak and helpless. Aaron had made him realize that it was because of all the horrible things he'd been through that he was as strong as he was today. Well, he had more stories to add to that novel, he told himself as he flopped down onto the mattress. His whole body ached with fatigue. Two days spent hunting and killing tended to do that. He closed his eyes, thinking he'd take a brief nap. Two hours had passed by the time he woke up.

It was still early enough in the day, and Daryl's stomach was eating itself. He didn't have the patience or the energy to go out and hunt for his food. That would take too long. So he settled for a can of cartoon character shaped spaghetti noodles with meat sauce. As he reached into a drawer for a fork, he remembered sharing a delicious meal of fresh caught fist with Aaron. They laughed at the thought of using silverware and plates again. It was such a luxury, and nice to share the moment with Aaron. "Damn it," Daryl berated himself. "Why does every thought come back to him?"

With only a couple hours left until sunset, Daryl gathered up as much wood and kindling as he could find, and brought it into the cabin. It was still warm with the sun up, but it would get cold tonight, so he was prepared. He placed the logs inside the hearth, and tried to build them properly. He would wait to light the fire. He didn't need it yet. He thought he should probably take his bow and head out into the woods, try to see if he could catch something for later, but his muscles ached. Besides, there was plenty of canned goods to choose from. He could roast a rabbit or open a can of green beans, it didn't matter to him at this point. Food was only there to keep him from starving, otherwise he didn't care.

That's what got him into this mess to begin with. He cared too much. He never should have let Aaron in, his first mistake of many. But Aaron was good at making him open up. Daryl almost couldn't help but share all those things he swore never to repeat. He was comfortable with Aaron. They had so much in common. They understood each other. Daryl was just starting to figure out his life, and Aaron had been a part of that. Now, he felt like he had to shut it all down again, stick everything back into the bottle and cork it up like . . .

"Wine," Daryl said aloud, remembering the wine cellar. "I need something or I'm going to drive myself crazy." He went and retrieved a couple bottles, brought them to the kitchen and uncorked them. He looked around for a glass, and then remembered he was alone. "No point in it," he said and took a long swig right from the bottle. It was good, warmed him from the inside as it slid down and purled in his stomach. Daryl left the unopened bottle on the counter and took the opened one to the living room. He plopped down on the couch and drank heavily. Then he stretched his legs out on the couch and got comfortable. He closed his eyes, and replayed the kiss in his mind, the one he almost shared with Aaron. Maybe if those damn walkers hadn't come along, he thought. They ruined the moment and the kiss never happened. Did Aaron think he would never come around? Did he get tired of waiting for Daryl to make up his mind? Was that why he went back to Eric? But why do it at a time when he knew Daryl was coming by? Because he wanted to rub it in, he thought to himself. Daryl sunk into the couch, drank more wine and tried to forget. It was working too, until . . .

 _Bang! Bang!_ Two very loud knocks on the front door made Daryl jumped out of his skin and off the couch.

"Daryl, it's me. It's Aaron," he announced quickly, knowing a knock on the door would startle the man inside.

It took Daryl a moment to find his heartbeat. Then he went to the door, but didn't open it yet. "Aaron? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. I had a feeling you'd be here. Will you let me in?" He sounded sincere.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Daryl said through the closed door.

"I need to talk to you … face to face … not like this," Aaron said.

"I don't have anything to say to you," Daryl said.

"I know you don't, which is why I'll do all the talking."

"Yeah, well you're good at that, aren't you?"

"Good one. Another zinger. Guess I deserve that. I can't help it. I tend to talk too much when I'm nervous or trying to apologize to the man I care about."

"Don't say that." Daryl was uncomfortable hearing him admit his feelings.

"But it's true," Aaron said in a gentle voice. "Look, either you can let me in and we'll discuss this like two adults, or I can continue talking through the door until I lose my voice or attract roamers."

Damn it, he just had to mention that, didn't he. Yet another way Aaron was good at manipulating him. Daryl reluctantly unlocked the door and walked away. Aaron slowly opened the door and came in. His eyes swept around the cabin, finding everything in order. What did he think he would find, Daryl wondered. Then Aaron's attention was on Daryl. "You look like hell. What have you been doing?"

"Did you see any walkers on your way here?" Daryl asked.

"No."

"Then that should answer your question." Daryl was in no mood for niceties. "You said you got something to say, so say it and leave."

Aaron was across the room. He looked worn with worry, like a man desperate for one last chance. He stretched his arms out to the side. "Daryl, I'm sorry."

"Is that it? Is that all you got to say?" Daryl wished he had his cigarettes. He only had one pack, and he saved it for when he was deeply troubled or in despair. This counted as one of those moments.

"I could say all kinds of things, like the fact that I didn't know Eric was coming over, or that he initiated the kiss, catching me off guard, but something tells me you don't want to hear it."

"You're right, I don't," Daryl said in a dark tone.

"Then I'll just say this. I don't want Eric. I didn't want that kiss. I felt nothing. What I really wanted that night was you. I couldn't wait to see you again. All I've thought about since we were on that bridge is kissing you. All I hear is your voice telling me you're ready, and I'm the one you trust." As Aaron spoke, he slowly closed the distance between him and Daryl.

"I did trust you until I saw you with Eric, and for someone who didn't want it, you weren't in any hurry to end it."

"I know it looked bad, and I can't undo it. But I'm being honest when I say I didn't want it. But that's not what this is about, is it? You're scared and I get that. You were hurt, damaged even, but I would never do that to you intentionally." Aaron was almost in front of Daryl. For some reason, Daryl couldn't move. He should have told him to stop, but he didn't, and now he was almost upon him. Aaron continued. "I've wanted you for a while now, and I think you know that. I've waited patiently to find out what you're feeling. It wasn't until you took me on your bike that I knew for sure. I like the fact that you wanted to get me far away from everyone and everything. It was just you and I out there, and it felt so right. Tell me you didn't feel the same thing, and I'll leave right now."

"I did want that, but … imagine what it was like for me to find you with Eric when I'd finally given in to all these things I've avoided my whole life. I trusted you with my secrets. I wouldn't have done that unless I wanted you to help me figure stuff out. For the first time I wasn't ashamed of what I was feeling. And then I find you with him, kissing." Daryl's ire came back. "You know what? I was wrong. I should never have told you anything. I should have pushed you away. You made a fool out of me."

"For God's sake, it was just one kiss," Aaron replied, his own anger coming out. "And I didn't even want it."

Daryl took a step closer to challenge him. "Then maybe you should have pushed him away sooner."

"I did push him away," Aaron countered.

"Yeah, after I showed up. What would have happened if I didn't come along right then?"

"You know, you're making a bigger deal out of this than is necessary. I don't fucking want Eric. I want you!" Aaron shouted.

"Bullshit!" Daryl yelled back. Now he got in Aaron's face, the muscles in his arms tensing as his hands balled into fists. "You need to leave."

"Why? You gonna kick my ass? Are you going to continue to live in denial because you saw something that wasn't even my doing?" Aaron challenged.

"I was better off not dealing with this shit. I was better off alone. I was better off not knowing you," Daryl seethed.

"You don't really believe that."

"Fuck you. You don't know me," Daryl said, only inches from Aaron's face.

"I do know you. And I know you want this." Aaron captured Daryl's mouth with his own, kissing him hard.

The suddenness of it paralyzed Daryl with shock. A fire built instantly, burning him from the inside out. Aaron's mouth was demanding, but at the same time a bit hesitant, fearing Daryl's reaction. Daryl suddenly realized that he had total control over the situation, something he'd never had before.

God, his mouth felt good, and Daryl wanted more, but every instinct told him to stop. He fought hard in his mind, which was telling him to never let go. Finally, Daryl brought his hands up and shoved Aaron at the shoulders, bushing him back and breaking the kiss. His reflexes were fast, but not so quick that Aaron lost his balance. The man just stood there, breathing rapidly, lips swollen and parted, and desire staining his eyes. Daryl felt naked before him. He didn't like being vulnerable, but with Aaron it felt alright. That trust he thought he'd lost was still there, had probably been there all along, buried by anger and … yes, jealousy over Eric.

' _No_ ', his conscience screamed. ' _You caught him reaching in the proverbial cookie tin when you saw him kissing Eric. Don't trust him. Don't let him in. Shut him out before he forces you to do something you don't want. He'll seduce you. He'll use you. Then, he'll throw you away just like what happened before._ '

Daryl's anger had been flamed by his subconscious thoughts. He reached up and grabbed a fist full of Aaron's flannel shirt at the neck. Aaron didn't flinch. He wasn't scared in the least, and that pissed Daryl off even more. Everyone was scared of him when he released his ire. He stared at Aaron with narrowed eyes. "I should punch you," he growled. "I should beat the shit out of you for doing that. The last man that did something like that … he … he–"

"I'm not that man. I'd never be that man," Aaron said in a calm voice.

How dare he bring that up, Daryl thought. He tightened his grip on Aaron's shirt. His mouth tightened into a thin line as he clenched his teeth. He brought his free hand up, fingers balled into a fist aimed right at Aaron's face. He brought his elbow back, ready to release his rage. Aaron still didn't move a muscle. He didn't close his eyes or look away. He just looked at Daryl with desire. Daryl's hand shot forward, but instead of punching him, he grasped the back of Aaron's neck and released his shirt. Daryl gazed at him another moment, and then pulled Aaron to him. He kissed him so hard, their teeth clicked. Daryl forced his tongue past the other man's lips, and was allowed instant access. Tongues finally met and caressed each other. Daryl couldn't seem to get enough. So long had he wanted this. So long had he dreamed of this moment. It was better than anything he could have imagined.

Daryl cupped the sides of Aaron's head, holding him in place while he they kissed, memorizing every salacious second. Aaron released a moan and his hands roamed down Daryl's sculpted arms. His touch set Daryl ablaze in a way he'd never known before. How could a kiss have such an effect on him? He felt himself straining against the material of his borrowed pants, and when Aaron pressed his body against Daryl's, they rubbed against each other. Aaron was just as excited.

"Daryl … oh God … I want you," Aaron whispered between kisses.

"I … I don't know–"

"Don't worry. We'll take our time," Aaron reassured him. "Let's go to your room."

"That's not taking our time, don't you think?" Daryl said nervously. "Can't we just stay like this?" He kissed Aaron again hoping to keep him where he was.

"Well, we could," Aaron said smiling at Daryl. "But the more your mouth assaults mine, the more I want to take you to your bed."

Daryl let Aaron kiss him wantonly, gave him control just to know what it might feel like. His lips moved to Daryl's neck, a new sensation, and one that he was enjoying tremendously. So this was what it was like to have someone take care and seduce him properly. It mattered also that Daryl cared for Aaron. My God, he thought to himself. He actually had feelings for Aaron, and he admitted it to himself. The realization of that thought made Daryl release a little more of his anxiety, allowed him to relax a bit and give in to Aaron's ministrations of his lips upon Daryl's neck. It felt good. More than that, it felt … intoxicating. Could he do this? Could he really give himself over to Aaron? But just as he did, his demons came back.

Jay's voice came out of nowhere. _"Didn't I try to teach you how to fuck someone? But you resisted, you little shit. As soon as I started in on you, you fought back. You were such a damn tease. You'll tease Aaron too, and he'll be forced to shove you onto the mattress. Once a man reaches that certain point of no turning back, he'll get it. He'll have his way whether you want it or not."_

Aaron's hand traveled down Daryl's chest, hesitated at his buckle and went lower until he found Daryl's hardened desire, cupping him through his pants, kneading and caressing. "Oh Daryl, you're ready. You're so ready. Take me to bed. I want you so bad."

"I … I don't … I'm not sure," Daryl stammered, confusion setting in.

" _There you go again, same thing you did to me, but I got you, didn't I? Aaron's going to fuck you whether you want it or not. Go ahead and resist. See what he does,"_ Jay's voice said again.

"Please, Daryl. Make love to me. Let me show you how. Let me teach you," Aaron begged, his hand kneading harder and faster.

Daryl felt himself stiffening, felt the pain of his erection straining against his pants, but Jay's voice was interfering with his desire to go through with this. "Stop, Aaron. You have to stop."

"But you're so ready, and I'm aching for you. Come on. Let's go to bed. We'll take our time," Aaron pleaded. His hand was still working its magic, and Daryl thought he'd come undone right there, standing in the middle of the living room.

"No, I don't want this," Daryl said again, but he couldn't move. Aaron's hand felt so good on him.

"I know you're scared. Trust me, Daryl. Let me show you the way. Please?" Aaron's fingers wrapped around Daryl's hidden length as best as he could manage through a pair of pants. Luckily they were kind of loose fitting.

Jay seemed to whisper in Daryl's ear. _"See? What'd I tell you? Won't take no for an answer. We're all alike, Daryl. We just want to get our jollies off on a sweet piece of ass like yours. Better give him what he wants, or he'll leave you crying into your pillow like a bitch. You remember that, don't you?"_

"I said NO!" Daryl shouted like a man possessed. He pushed away from Aaron, but before the man could speak to ask what was wrong, Daryl clenched his hand into a fist, brought it up and punched Aaron in the face. Aaron stood a moment, with a blank stare on his face. Then his eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor. Daryl punched him so hard that he knocked Aaron out.

Daryl stood over Aaron's body sprawled out on the floor, and looked down at him. His hand ached from the punch. "Oh shit," Daryl said aloud when he finally realized just what he had done. He just wanted to scare Aaron. He just wanted to make him stop to make the voices stop too. He didn't want to do this. What a mess it all was now. Daryl looked down at Aaron's lifeless body, and watched the blood begin to trickle out of his nose. Damn it, did he break bones? He didn't know how hard he'd actually punched Aaron. Obviously it was hard enough to knock the man out. He pulled his shirt off, knelt down and wiped the blood from Aaron's face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Maybe he wasn't' cut out for this lifestyle after all. Daryl released a sigh, and shook his head, ashamed of himself for his abrasive behavior, for letting the voices have their way again. He got his hands under Aaron's shoulders and lifted him. Then he dragged the body to his bedroom, and got him settled on the bed. Daryl felt terrible, but his reaction was mostly instinct. He'd never meant to actually hurt Aaron, least of all knock him out completely. He felt like a real ass. Hopefully, when Aaron finally woke up, they would be able to discuss this situation and Daryl could apologize. Hopefully, Aaron would forgive him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 For the First Time**

Daryl felt bad for what he did, punching Aaron in the face and knocking him out. He'd dragged him to his bedroom and put him in his bed. Daryl sat with him until he came to. Aaron finally started to move and moan as he woke up.

"Ugh … h-how long was I out?" Aaron asked.

"'Bout ten minutes or so."

Aaron sat up and rubbed his jaw. "That's a good right hook you got there. Better than Rick's." Aaron laughed. "I was out for what, five minutes after he punched me?"

"Hey man, I'm sorry 'bout that. I shouldn't have–"

"No," Aaron interrupted. "It was my fault. I should have known better than to push you."

"I … I don't know what happens to me sometimes. I hear a voice, and it's like he's right there antagonizing me," Daryl explained.

"You mean Jay?" Aaron asked and Daryl nodded. "What did he do to you?" Aaron said, more to himself than to Daryl.

"He got in my head," Daryl admitted. "And I don't know how to turn him off, even after all this time."

"Maybe you should meet our psychiatrist when we get back. She might be able to help you," Aaron suggested.

"Yeah, maybe, but I was hoping that … that if you … and I–"

"I think you're going to have to go at your own pace." Aaron reached out and put his hand on Daryl's knee. "But I'm willing to wait. I just wanted you to know that, ok?"

"Thanks," Daryl said, sounding desolate.

"Hey, what time is it?" Aaron said to change the subject.

"I don't know. Not too late. Sun went down not too long ago. You hungry?" Daryl asked.

"Starved," Aaron smiled getting up from the bed.

Daryl laughed. "You're just in time for pasta night."

Aaron smiled wide at the joke. "Pasta night, really?"

His smile warmed Daryl on the inside. Even after all that happened, Aaron still wanted to be with him, even someone as screwed up as himself. That, he knew, was rare. "Yeah, the guy who lived here has about twenty cans of Spaghetti Ring-O's."

"Well, by all means, let's have pasta night then." Aaron grasped Daryl's shoulder as they walked to the kitchen. Daryl didn't mind. His touch brought him comfort.

After eating a couple cans of spaghetti, cold and right out of the can, they pulled out a bottle of wine, went to the couch, and enjoyed each other's company. They talked about this and that, learned more about each other, and relaxed as they sat shoulder to shoulder. Aaron made no move to kiss him again, and that was fine. Daryl was happy just to sit together and talk, but he wished to revisit the warmth of Aaron's body against his, and feel the firmness of their lips upon each other. In due time, Daryl thought, or at least he hoped.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Aaron said during a lull in the conversation. "I need to have you back to the town by tomorrow afternoon, or Rick is going to send out a search and rescue team. He was prepared to go this morning, but I convinced him to let me find you on my own first."

"How'd you manage that?" Daryl wondered.

"I told him I thought I knew where you were, which I did, but I didn't want them to find the cabin. We're the only ones who know about this place, and I'd like it to stay that way."

"Rick's not easy to win over," Daryl mentioned. "I'm surprised he didn't insist on someone going with you."

"He did, but I had a bit of help changing his mind. Carol, she backed me up."

"Carol?" Daryl seemed surprised.

Aaron looked down at his lap. "Yeah," he whispered. "There's something you should know. Carol, she was really worried about you, and she figured out pretty quickly that I knew something. She's very persistent, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know. So what did you say to her?" Daryl wanted to know.

Aaron leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. "She knows."

"Jesus, Aaron, you told her about me?" He was instantly embarrassed.

"About us," Aaron said quietly.

"Shit."

"She could tell that I knew why you took off. She got me alone and threatened me until I told her what I knew. So I told her what happened that night, about Eric coming by unexpectedly, and how you showed at the worst possible moment. She knows the real reason you broke into the weapons room, and then left town without saying a word. I never would have said anything, but for the fact that she's your best friend. If it had been Rick or any of the others, I'd let them beat me to a pulp and still not say anything. But Carol, she really cares what happens to you, more than the others. Not that the others don't care. Don't get me wrong. They do, tremendously. I don't think you know how much. You all are like family, you know?"

Aaron was rambling again. He was worried that Daryl would be upset, but the truth was, he was ok with it. Perhaps he'd always wanted to tell Carol, but he just never found the right situation. Aaron was a good judge of character, and he could see what a good friend she was. He also liked the fact that Aaron said he'd take a beating for him rather than tell anyone else his secret. Daryl was a fool to ever think he couldn't trust Aaron. That rant had been his own stubbornness clouding his mind.

Aaron was still talking and stumbling over his own words when Daryl took his chin and turned Aaron's face to meet his. "Are you upset?" Aaron asked.

"No," Daryl said as he leaned forward and kissed Aaron to make him shut up. This time they kissed unhurriedly, easing into it like a slow dance. God, his lips felt so good, Daryl thought. Before his urge got too great, he broke away. "You were right to tell her the truth. It's the least she deserves."

"She actually rescued me when Rick became insistent. He blamed me for your disappearance, and wanted to know what transpired between us. I couldn't think fast enough, but Carol spoke up, told him you came to me looking for your old job back, but I didn't think you were ready, or something like that. It worked, they bought it. And when I asked to be the one to go out and find you, Rick said no, but it was Carol who talked to him and changed his mind. She's a good person, although, she kind of scares the crap out of me sometimes."

Daryl laughed. He knew what Aaron meant by that. "Yeah, I know. Did she do that creepy 'mommy dearest' thing where she talks to you with a smile, but you know that at any moment she might snap and stick a knife through your heart?"

"Yes!" Aaron laughed. "That's exactly what she did."

"No wonder you told her about us. But really, it's alright. I should have told her about me, at least, a long time ago. I always knew that she'd understand."

"She does, and I think she was even happy about it. She's actually had a hunch about you for a while now. I think she was waiting for you to say something first, though." Aaron leaned back into the couch, a glass of wine in his hand. "I'm just glad you're not mad at me."

"Naw, it's ok."

They talked and sipped wine while the night moved on. It was very peaceful in the cabin, especially with the hearth lit and a few candles sitting around. They drank moderately, so even though they were warmed inside by the headiness of the vintage, neither man was in his cups. Eventually, they came to the decision to get some sleep. Aaron stood from the couch and started towards the spare rooms. Daryl watched him go, but something made him call out to him.

"Hey, you uh … do you … I mean … y-you can share my room, if you want," Daryl stammered.

"Of course I want to, but are you sure you're ok with it?" Aaron asked.

"I … yeah, it's ok … just to sleep, you know. I ain't making no promises," Daryl said, scared to commit to anything more.

Aaron smiled warmly and went to him. "Ok, just to sleep. I swear I won't do anything to you in the middle of the night." He was only half joking, and Daryl sensed it. "Besides, I don't think my face can take another punch."

Daryl ran his fingers through his hair, looking apologetic. "Yeah, your nose was kind of bleeding, but I took care of it. I was worried I broke something."

"No, it's ok. Sore, but ok." Aaron walked towards Daryl's bedroom while Daryl stood a moment and watched him. Nothing had to happen, he convinced himself. They were just going to share a bed for the night. It was something they couldn't do in Alexandria, and he really didn't want to waste the chance, even if they stayed on their respected sides of the bed.

Both men stripped down to boxers, and Daryl tried to avert his eyes. Aaron climbed into the king size bed first, settling under the covers. Daryl hesitated a moment, but he got in too. They laid on their backs, staring up at the ceiling.

"Now I see why you called dibs on this room. Definitely the better bed," Aaron said to try and take the anxiety out of the air.

"Well, I saw the opportunity and I took it," Daryl said. Something else was weighing heavily on his mind, and now seemed like the right time to discuss it. "So … uh … how are things going to work when we go back to town … with Eric, I mean?"

"I talked to him that night, something I should have done a long time ago. I told him the truth. He didn't want to hear it, and I didn't like saying it, but it's out there now. He knows that I care about him, but I don't love him like he loves me. It was a difficult discussion, and he split before we resolved anything. I hope he'll be ok."

"I don't know why I let him manipulate me like that, but at the time, he made a lot of sense," Daryl explained.

"What exactly did he tell you?" Aaron wondered.

Daryl put his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out, getting more and more comfortable with Aaron lying next to him. Then he proceeded to tell Aaron about all the things he and Eric talked about. "He had me convinced that letting go of you was the best thing for everyone. He said I was stringing you along while I tried to figure out my own life. And honestly, it felt like that … not all the time, but sometimes. I didn't want to do that to you, just in case it turned out that I didn't want this kind of lifestyle."

"You can't change who you are or what you were born to be. So you're a little late to the party, and you're just now figuring out what you want. That doesn't make you any less of a person. I saw you for who you were, for who you are, and I was willing to wait for you to see it too. Eric had no business getting involved."

"I see that now." Daryl was quiet a moment, both of them lying in the dark. He thought about Aaron, about how he was willing to wait. No one had ever been willing to do that for him, not friends, not family. "I'm sorry for the things I said to you that night. I'm sorry for not believing you, for not giving you a chance to explain. I just … I saw you and Eric, and everything shut down."

"You don't have to apologize. It wasn't your fault. Besides, if you were still pissed at me, I don't think I'd be here right now." Daryl could hear the smile in Aaron's voice. "Well, good night," Aaron said as he turned on his side facing away from Daryl.

Daryl was slightly disappointed by his action, but not really surprised. After all, Daryl had said sleep only, and that's what Aaron was doing. Daryl closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep too, but he couldn't stop thinking about their last kiss. It had been better than the first. There was so much more feeling in it, more meaningful too.

There was a slight chill in the room, but Daryl hardly felt it. His body was warming him with thoughts of Aaron lying next to him only inches away. He turned on his side, facing Aaron, whose back was to him. Aaron's arm was laid on his side, on top of the sheet. There was just enough light in the room for Daryl to be able to observe him. Aaron had nice arms, just enough definition to make out the muscles, especially when they flexed. Daryl reached out to touch him, but hesitated, stopped by fear. He had to get past this if anything was going to develop between him and Aaron. He reached out again, but this time he didn't stop. Instead, he allowed his fingers to lightly trace the contour of Aaron's arm, starting at the shoulder, and slowly traveling down to his wrist. Daryl pulled his hand away quickly when Aaron moved and rolled onto his back. The sheet had come down, exposing his chest. Daryl let his eyes roam over the lightly muscled body. He'd not seen Aaron like this before, not this close with all the time in the world to observe him.

Seeing that Daryl froze, Aaron took hold of the rough calloused hand and place it on his chest. Then he released him to let Daryl choose what he would do next. It was all up to Daryl. "It's ok. I don't mind," Aaron assured him.

Daryl watched Aaron's face a moment, until he closed his eyes and appeared to be sleeping, though he wasn't. It made it easier for Daryl to continue his exploration of another man's body, something he'd never done before. Aaron made himself accessible to let Daryl move at his own pace. His hand was at the top of Aaron's chest, right were a very light patch of fuzz grew. Daryl moved his hand, feeling the soft curls tickle his palm. Aaron's nipples instantly hardened, and this excited Daryl. He'd never seen someone react to his touch before. Curiosity got the best of him, and Daryl let his palm travel over the hard pebbled skin. Aaron's lips parted and his breathing became a bit hurried, all because of Daryl's touch. He wanted to know more of Aaron's body, so his hand traveled lower to Aaron's flat stomach. The rippling of his abs was light, but he could feel it. Mostly, his flesh was soft and smooth on his stomach. It moved up and down with Aaron's hurried breath. Daryl wondered what it would feel like to kiss him there, but he didn't want to go that fast. He was happy just letting his hand explore the fine masculinity of the body next to him.

His hand went just a bit lower, just below Aaron's bellybutton. He could feel the muscles there clench and relax repeatedly. Daryl looked down and noticed the slight tenting of the sheet. Aaron was hard, and all because of a touch. How could someone become so eager from just a touch? Well, Daryl thought, no one was touching him, yet he had hardened too. Just watching Aaron become excited had made his own body come to life. It was all very erotic, and he liked everything about it.

Daryl looked to Aaron's face, his eyes closed, lips parted, and whispered his name. "Aaron." The man's eyes slowly opened connecting with each other.

"Kiss me," Aaron whispered in return.

Daryl leaned down, closing the distance between them until their lips touched. His hand still rested on Aaron's stomach, forgotten for the moment as he concentrated on Aaron's tongue caressing his own. But he felt the sheet slip lower, and broke the kiss a moment to look. Aaron kicked the sheet away so he was no longer covered. There was a definite bulge beneath the thin material of his boxers. Daryl looked at Aaron again, and the man smiled. "It's ok if you want to . . ."

Daryl reluctantly tore his eyes away from Aaron's to look down again. He lifted his hand from Aaron's stomach, and let it travel over the material until it cupped the very hard cock. Aaron sighed seductively, and pulsed beneath Daryl's hand. Daryl instinctively knew what to do and began kneading him. He looked back at Aaron's face, and found him intently watching Daryl to see his reaction. Daryl kissed him again, but this time with a little more force. His hand continued to manipulate Aaron's lively flesh, and felt Aaron's hips begin to buck upwards with every stroke, pushing himself into Daryl's hand. Daryl kept the rhythm constant until Aaron's body went ridged and he released a strangled moan into Daryl's mouth. Daryl felt liquid warmth beneath his palm and jerked his hand away in shock. He pulled back from Aaron and watched as the man's orgasm traveled over his body. Aaron opened his eyes and managed to catch his breath.

Daryl thought he'd done something wrong. "I … I'm sorry," he said.

"No," Aaron said in an insistent voice. "No, don't be. It's ok. It's just … been so long and … and I've … dreamt of this."

"You have?" Daryl said, surprised.

"Almost since I first met you," Aaron admitted. Even in the dark, Daryl could see his face flush red. "I … uh … I … made love to Eric once since you came to town, and I … well … the whole time I … imagined it was you."

"Oh," Daryl said. He was at a loss for words.

"I knew things weren't great between Eric and me, but that's what made me realize I didn't and couldn't love him because … you were all I could think about."

Daryl huffed a skeptical laugh. "Me? I don't get why anyone would think about me. I'm just some backwoods redneck."

Aaron sat up on his elbows. "Are you kidding me? You have no idea just how desirable you are. Do you know how many women there are in town that are hoping you'll look their way? I wasn't joking about them pulling straws to see who would get to give you a sponge bath when you were recovering from that fever. They were all lined up." Aaron stopped to laugh. "You've got that whole dark, dangerous, mysterious, handsome, stranger rides in on a Harley thing going on that drives the women mad with lust."

Daryl plopped back down into his pillow. "Come on, man," he said, embarrassed.

"No, it's true. The only problem was they didn't have any straws."

That made Daryl laugh. Aaron was good at bringing out the humor in any situation. "Thank goodness for that."

"And then one of the girls from the food store suggested pulling a name from a hat. You should have seen them scramble for paper and pencils. One woman ran home to grab her gardening hat. It was hilarious."

Daryl could just imagine it. There he was lying sick and unconscious in bed, and all these women cared about was getting a glimpse. "Did they realize that whoever won would have to wear the hazmat suit?"

"I don't think they cared," Aaron said. He turned onto his side and watched Daryl laugh and enjoy the moment. Their eyes connected and the laughter died away. Aaron leaned down and kissed Daryl again. When he broke away, he said seductively, "Looks like I drew the short straw. Lucky me."

The best thing in the world was kissing Aaron, but Daryl needed control. In one swift movement, he rose up from the bed, forcing Aaron on his back, and continued kissing him with want and need. It suddenly wasn't enough to lay next to him, and Daryl climbed on top of him. Finally, their bare chests rested against each other, flesh on flesh, warm and masculine scented. They were both hard and their cocks rubbed together beneath their boxers. Aaron's hands roamed up and down Daryl's muscled back, his fingers stopping to dig into flesh whenever his hips bucked upward. Daryl mimicked the movements and they were grinding against each other, losing themselves in the moment.

Daryl paused and pulled away to look into Aaron's eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue, and right now they were full of desire. Daryl wanted Aaron too, but he just wasn't sure he could go any further than they were right now. He didn't want to lead Aaron into thinking that they would either.

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked before Daryl could speak.

Daryl rolled off of Aaron, once again lying on his back looking at the ceiling. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. I mean, I've been attracted to someone before, but not with such intensity, and no one has ever returned that attraction. It's just … it's a little frightening."

"That's why we'll only go as fast as you want things to advance. I don't ever want you to feel uncomfortable with me," Aaron said soothingly.

"I'm not uncomfortable with you in the least, and that's what is so scary. Out there, I'm Daryl Dixon, rough and tough, no bullshit kind of guy. But here, alone with you, I'm someone I've never known before," Daryl admitted.

"You're you," Aaron smiled, turning onto his side to face Daryl. He took up a lock of Daryl's hair and twisted it between his fingers. "Shall I introduce you to the real Daryl Dixon?" He paused to huff a laugh. "This is who you should have been if your situation was different. This is who you've been hiding from all these years. So how does it feel to finally meet your true self?"

"It's strange. It's frightening. It's also liberating."

"That's good. I'm glad you're ok with it." Aaron laid back down, settling into his pillows again.

The two men laid side by side for a while, each in his own thoughts, enjoying the quiet and the warmth they shared. Aaron seemed content, but Daryl felt himself becoming restless.

"Aaron?" he asked.

"Yeah," Aaron replied in the dark.

"I think I'm ready."

"Are you sure? The last time you were ready, I got punched," Aaron jested.

"Our opportunities like this are few and far between. When's the next time we'll be completely alone without worry? I don't want to waste this time with you," Daryl said.

"I don't want to either, but that's not reason enough to move forward. You can't force it."

"I know," Daryl said. "And I'm scared of the voices coming back. It's happened every time in the past."

"Those ghosts have no place here. This time is for you and me only. You have to be in control, and tell them to stay the hell out of our business. Own up to the Daryl in this room with me right now. That Daryl would tell the voices to go the fuck away."

That made Daryl laugh. Hearing Aaron, who hardly ever cussed, drop the f-bomb struck him as funny.

"I'm serious," Aaron went on.

"I know you are. I just like hearing you say that."

"What … fuck?"

"Yeah, you're usually not so … direct."

"So, what the fuck? I can't say fuck?" Aaron joked. He repeated the word a few more times, and while he was distracted Daryl kissed him. Instantly they were caught up in the whirlwind of the moment, heated mouths, slippery tongues, an escaped moan here and there. Aaron broke away and looked deep into Daryl's eyes. If that was all they could manage, then it was enough.

"How are you feeling right now?" Aaron asked.

"Overwhelmed," Daryl answered honestly. "As though the voices will start up any moment."

Aaron kissed his cheek, his jaw, and lower to his neck. "All you assholes, I command you to leave right now," he whispered unexpectedly. "Go away and leave us alone." Aaron looked at Daryl again. "How do you feel now?"

"A little more confident, I guess."

Aaron's hand slipped down and cupped Daryl through his boxers. "Anything? Any one protesting?"

"They're trying."

Aaron turned his attention to the empty space around them. "If anyone has something to say, say it now, but I don't think it will matter anymore. You can't harass Daryl without me knowing about it. What you all did to him was wrong, but I'm going to make him realize that there's nothing wrong with what we're about to do." Aaron turned back to Daryl. "We're not perverts. We have feelings and desires. We deserve to be treated right. I will treat you right, Daryl. I want to show you how beautiful this can be. No one can harm you now. They aren't real anymore. They are just figments of your imagination. But I'm real, and I want you. I won't hurt you or belittle you. I'll be here in the morning with a smile on my face. I'm here to stay because I desire you, because you stir something deep inside me, something I didn't know existed before."

Daryl's heart beat so loudly, he thought it would pump right out of his chest. Here was a man who wanted him, who understood him and his situation. Here was a man he truly thought he could care deeply for, and they were together in this moment. So why wait any longer, he thought to himself. The way the world was now, you never knew when your time was up. Things could all go to hell tomorrow, but tonight it was just him and Aaron. "I … I-I want you too," he stammered to commit. Daryl felt himself cringe as he waited for the voices to interfere again. This time there was only silence.

"Are they gone?" Aaron asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I think they are."

Aaron gazed upon him. "We're doing a lot more than kissing like we were the last time they interrupted." Aaron was caressing Daryl's hardened length, his hand slipping through the opening of the boxers, flesh meeting flesh for the first time.

Daryl sucked air between his clenched teeth. "Yeah, we are."

"So what's different now than before? Why are the voices leaving you alone?" Aaron asked, his hand becoming more insistent.

"Because this time I know without a doubt that I want you," Daryl answered.

"And I want you too," Aaron responded, and he kissed him deep. Hands roamed over each other while their bodies pressed together. Things were heating up quickly. Aaron knew this too. "Will you make love to me, Daryl?"

"Yeah," Daryl said in a whisper, his hand going to the bulge in Aaron's boxers.

"First things first," Aaron said, pulling away. "Don't move. I gotta get something." He reluctantly got out of bed, and rushed out of the room.

Daryl laid there for a moment, waiting for the ball to drop. If he started to hear the voices now, he'd never be able to continue. However, all was silent. There was something about Aaron that made this all ok. He'd chased away the phantoms, the one's that Daryl couldn't remove by himself. His confidence lever was at an all-time high. As a matter of fact, Daryl was so confident that he took off his boxers and tossed them on the floor. He laid naked on top of the covers, but at the last minute, covered himself from the waist down. He was nervous, but he'd do anything not to appear that way. And what the hell was Aaron doing?

A few minutes later, Aaron came back in the room, holding a tube in his hand. He set it on the nightstand and crawled back into bed. "What's that?" Daryl asked.

"That's lubricant."

"And you brought it with you?" Daryl asked.

"Actually, I had it with me the first time we were here," Aaron said shyly.

"A little bit presumptuous, don't you think?" Daryl was trying to embarrass him. It was lightening the mood too.

"A man can dream can't he? Besides, you should be thanking me or we might be searching through the kitchen for something unconventional about now," Aaron laughed.

"Let me see that," Daryl demanded. Aaron handed the bottle to him and he looked it over carefully. "Quick Slick … for your dick." Daryl huffed. "What the hell?"

"I was lucky I came across it during one of my runs. I was in a store, and it just happened to catch my eye. I guess in an apocalypse, no one is thinking about sex lube." Aaron explained.

"No one but you, you horn-dog." Daryl narrowed his eyes at him. "What kind of a store were you in? It's not like they sell this at the neighborhood pharmacy."

"Alright, if you must know, it was an adult toy store. I got curious. No one ever thinks of looking in the sex shop for supplies, and it just happened to be there," Aaron confessed.

"So, was this before or after we met?" Daryl asked as a challenge.

"What does it matter when I–"

Daryl rolled onto Aaron, keeping the sheet over them, and pinned him to the bed. "Before or after?" Daryl threatened slowly.

"After," Aaron answered reluctantly.

Daryl popped the hinged lid up and sniffed it. It had no smell. Then he put a little on his finger and swirled it between his forefinger and his thumb. It was thick, but not oily, water-based he figured. "Do I use this on you or me?"

"Well, either or both. Depends on who tops and who will bottom. Definitely more beneficial to the bottom. You can't go in dry, if you know what I mean."

He did know, and he tried to bury the thought that popped into his head, but it was the only thing he had to compare this to.

"Hey, you ok?" Aaron asked. Daryl must have had an odd look on his face.

"Yeah, just remembering something. Jay … he didn't … he spit in his hand, and that was all."

"Hey," Aaron said, furrowing his brow. "There's no room for him here. This night belongs to you and me only."

Daryl gave it some thought, and knew Aaron was right. "Yeah, ok," Daryl agreed, and thought about the fact that Aaron was being very careful with their situation. That alone made Daryl feel more at ease, to know this man cared enough to consider it.

"I think for our first time, you are the one who needs the control," Aaron said.

Daryl imagined what it would be like to let Aaron take him, and the thought of being pinned down made him really nervous. "Ok," Daryl answered, not sure what else to say.

"That means you'll need the lube … on yourself and me," Aaron advised.

"Ok," Daryl said again, repeating his other answer.

"Good. Well then, we'll need to get naked," Aaron said.

Daryl smiled like the Cheshire cat. "You've got some catching up to do." He threw aside his inhibitions with the sheet that covered him, revealing himself to Aaron.

Aaron gasped slightly, unable to contain himself at finally seeing what Daryl really looked like. He took his own boxers off, and they both laid naked on top of the covers. There was plenty of time to get to the good part, but for now, Aaron wanted to explore.

Daryl watched as Aaron took him in his hand and stroked up and down his hardening shaft. It felt so good being held in Aaron's warm hand, and he mimicked the moves, taking Aaron in his hand. Aaron sucked a breath in through clenched teeth.

"Maybe we need that dick slick now," Daryl suggested.

"If we do that, we may not get very far before … you know."

"That's alright. We got the entire night don't we?" Daryl said slyly.

"Mmm, I like your way of thinking." Aaron reached for the bottle, opened it, and poured some into each of their hands. They moved closer to each other, and started applying the lube to one another. It was the most erotic thing Daryl had ever experienced. Aaron bit down on his lower lip, that pouty lip that tasted so good. Daryl increased his stroke, and Aaron threw his head back, releasing a breathy moan. Daryl was answered with a quickened stroking from Aaron, and felt his balls harden. Aaron was right. They wouldn't last long.

Aaron moved closer still, so that they were against each other, chest to chest. He took both cocks in his hand, and stroked them together. Daryl looked down and watched. It was too much. He could hardly hold back. He assaulted Aaron's mouth with his own, pushed Aaron's hand onto his cock and took Aaron in his hand again. They stroked one another, sometimes taking both in their hand, sometimes their own. They traded back and forth, reveling in the feeling as it escalated. In the end, each man held the other and stroked vigorously.

"Come with me," Aaron whispered, nipping at Daryl's chin.

"I'm there. Oh God, I'm so there," Daryl told him breathlessly.

"Oh yeah," Aaron answered.

They both went rigid and cried out obscenities as they came together. Sticky warmth spread between them, and they jumped and pulsed within each other's palms. Daryl kept his eyes shut, not wanting the moment to end, but the wave had passed and the sea surrounding him began to calm.

"Fuck, that felt good," Daryl finally said.

"And this is only the beginning. Like you said, we got all night."

They laid side by side, letting their bodies regenerate before they continued with the evening's activities. They were silent for a while, but it was a comfortable silence. The room was warm, so they stayed on top of the covers. Aaron twirled a piece of Daryl's hair between his fingers again.

"You like doing that, don't you?" Daryl asked.

"It relaxes me, although I'm pretty relaxed as it is." He released the lock of hair and turned onto his side, observing Daryl in the pale light. "How did I get so lucky? I mean, you could have been anywhere else in the world, but here you are by my side. What are the odds? It's like this was meant to be, you know?"

"I don't know how it happened. Luck, fate, some kind of divine intervention, whatever it was, I don't think about it much. There are too many other times in my life that none of those things came into play. For so long I've felt like I've been out there alone. You're the second person to understand me and accept me for who I am."

"The second?" Aaron asked surprised. There was no jealousy in his tone, just curiosity.

"I only told one person, Beth."

"Oh, the girl you traveled with. You mentioned her to me once a long time ago. She must have been very special," Aaron said, trying to get Daryl to open up about her. If she was special to Daryl, Aaron wanted to know more about her too.

"She was just a kid, but she had a very old soul. While we were out there surviving, I felt it was my job to protect her and get her somewhere safe. In the end, she did that for me." Daryl stared up at the ceiling, looking through drywall and wood, as though he was seeing her again, as a smile barely formed on his lips.

"I wish I could have met her. She sounds like an extraordinary girl."

"Maggie is her sister," Daryl blurted out, as though he'd just remembered that bit of information.

"Oh, I didn't know that. Maybe we can get together sometime and reminisce."

Daryl shook his head slowly. "Maggie won't talk too much about her. She's still hurting. It was a terrible scene, the way Beth died. We were right there. We were about to negotiate with these people who had her. We had some of theirs, they had Beth. All we had to do was make the trade and leave, but in the last seconds before that, everything went crazy. Beth ended up getting shot in the head. She didn't feel a thing, dropped to the floor like a sack of flour. I was standing right there. Her blood splattered on me. At first, I was in shock, couldn't wrap it around my brain. Then I went to her, and I knew she was gone. I picked her up and carried her out of that place. The other's, Maggie being one of them, were outside waiting for us to come out. I'll never forget Maggie's face. She was smiling at first, tears streaking down her face because she was so happy we found Beth and we were bringing her home. But then her smile disappeared and turned to shock when she saw her sister's limp body in my arms. Maggie fell to her knees and screamed to the heavens. It was the worst moment in my life, even worse than being raped. It almost felt like it was my fault. I should have protected her, kept her safe like before. I know now there was nothing I could have done to stop that bullet. We left and buried her under a tree. Everyone said a little something before we left. It was the first time I ever told anyone I loved them." Daryl finished his story and laid silent in the dark. Aaron reached out and took his hand.

"The world sneaks up on us once in a while, doesn't it?" Aaron said.

"More often than naught," Daryl said, a slight quiver in his voice. He turned to look at Aaron. "Hey, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

"No, it alright. I'm glad you told me. Makes me feel closer to you," Aaron said. He squeezed Daryl's hand to reassure him.

"You know, there's not many people I trust in this world, but I trust you more than any of them. You're special, Aaron, and I … I'm glad I found you." That was hard for Daryl to admit. He wasn't one for expressing his feelings, but something provoked him to say this to Aaron, as though he needed the man to know. Maybe it was the fact that he never got to tell Beth his true feelings. He would always regret it. He didn't want to regret anything with Aaron, just in case.

Aaron smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "I'm glad you're in my life now too." Emotions were running a little high, and Aaron thought it might be a good idea to break it up a bit. He got up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna grab us some wine. I'll be right back."

Daryl watched him stroll naked from the bedroom. One would never know the fine body beneath the geeky clothes Aaron usually wore, but he was glad he knew now. Aaron disappeared around the corner, and Daryl closed his eyes.

Maybe it was because he was just talking about her, but he suddenly saw a vision of Beth. In the past, his visions showed her as pallid and sometimes bloody, but she looked healthy and happy. Her skin was glowing and she smiled at him with the radiance of an angel.

"Are you happy?" she asked in her ethereal voice. It seemed to echo softly in his mind.

"For the first time, yeah, I am," he confessed.

"I like him. He'll be good for you. He's going to help you overcome your doubts and insecurities. Hang on to that man as long as you can, and let yourself be happy with him. Don't hold back any more. It's ok. You're safe here. No one will harm you or get through your thoughts. This place, this cabin, it's your safe haven. Remember that. Now go on and enjoy what time you two have left before tomorrow comes." As she finished speaking, she slowly faded, but her smile stayed brilliant until he could no longer see her.

Feeling a sudden boost of self-confidence, Daryl got out of bed and walked around the expensively decorated bedroom. What were the odds of finding a place like this? Not the fancy layout or the costly decorations and furniture. That didn't matter to Daryl. But the fact that this place was extremely well hidden, and no one had come upon it after all this time, that's what was odd. Even walkers didn't come this far, not yet anyways. Daryl and Aaron were very lucky to have this hideaway. There was no reason to hold back here. This was a sanctuary where Daryl could be himself, his true self. For a long time, he thought he'd lost his opportunity. For many years, he was confused. Aaron brought everything into the light. With Aaron, everything made sense. He didn't want to lose that. He'd do everything in his power not to lose it. It was time, he thought, time to come full circle, to embrace what he'd run from all his life, time to become the man that Aaron saw in him. Daryl wouldn't let his past ruin things for him. Beth was right, he was safe here, if nowhere else.

Aaron came back into the bedroom, a bottle of wine in each hand, and looking at the labels. "I wasn't sure if you'd want the red or the white, so I brought one of each so we could–" His breath hitched when he looked up and found Daryl standing by the bed, naked, and eyes smoldering. "You're up," he said, his eyes roaming along Daryl's body. "Wow, you're really … up."

Daryl was upon him in two long strides, took the bottles from Aaron's hands, and set them on the dresser. "I want you," he whispered, and he kissed the side of Aaron's neck. "And don't ask me if I'm sure anymore."

"Ok, mental note to self," Aaron jested, but Daryl ignored his humor this time, as he captured Aaron's mouth and kissed him with such passion. "I've got to go get the wine more often."

Daryl walked Aaron to the bed and pushed him down. Then he crawled on top of Aaron's body. They contoured against each other, cocks rubbing together as both men gyrated their hips. Aaron threw his arm back, without looking, and grabbed at things on the nightstand until he had the tube of lubricant. He had to push Daryl off of him. Daryl was lost in the moment, devouring the flesh of Aaron's neck, and reveling in the feel of Aaron's swollen lips.

"You know where this goes," Aaron said, handing Daryl the tube. While Daryl poured a little lube in his palm and spread it over his cock, Aaron slid out from under him and sat on the bed with his knees tucked beneath him.

Daryl poured out a little more and reached for Aaron's cock, but was stopped. "Wait," Aaron said. "I won't be needing that there." He stood on his knees and turned his back to Daryl. Daryl stood on his knees too, and surrounded Aaron with one arm. Aaron took the hand with the lube and directed it to his backside. "Here," Aaron advised.

Even though he'd never done this before, Daryl understood. He caressed the offered bum, getting it good and slippery. Aaron seemed to like the effect, as he pushed his ass out a little, arching his back as he did.

"I … don't usually take this position. I mean, I have, but it's been a long time. In other words, take this slow, ok?"

"I will," Daryl replied. With Aaron still upright, he pulled him against his chest and kissed his neck. Aaron's hand reached back, hand grabbing a fistful of Daryl's dark hair.

"It's ok if you want to explore. I'm all yours, Daryl. Do what you want. Control me," Aaron said seductively.

Daryl's hand moved from Aaron's ass to his own dick, rubbing and stroking. Aaron leaned forward until he was on hands and knees on the bed. Daryl spread the man's buttocks and found what he was looking for. Take his time, Aaron had said. Well, perhaps he should start out with his fingers. Daryl kneaded the pleasurable spot, finger dipping inside, making Aaron come to life. He moaned and Daryl knew he was doing the right thing. He added another finger and made Aaron suck a breath in through his teeth. He started pushing back against Daryl's hand. The lube made everything very slippery, and his fingers went in with ease. Now for the next step.

Daryl stroked his cock a few times, reapplying the lubricant, and brought his head to Aaron's entrance. He teased for a moment, and Aaron's response was enticing as he pushed back. Daryl pushed in a little further. Aaron was tight, but shit, it felt so good. It was warm and slick. He pushed in a bit more and pulled out, repeating the movements until he slid in easily. With every thrust, he went in a little more and a little more until he was about halfway in. Aaron was adjusting well, and coached him by telling him to go deeper. Inch by inch, Daryl slid into Aaron's body, sliding out and letting Aaron get used to him. The next time Daryl went in, Aaron surprised him and pushed back. Suddenly, Daryl was completely engulfed in the tight space.

"Oh God, that's like heaven," Daryl moaned.

"Lean back on your knees," Aaron suggested, and he helped guide Daryl in the sitting position without letting him pull out. Aaron was now sitting on Daryl's lap, back to front. He moved up and down Daryl's cock, and Daryl figured out to thrust up as Aaron came down. His hand reached back for Daryl, cupping the back of his head, and pulling his face towards him. Aaron turned his head, and they kissed awkwardly in that position. They kept their rhythm going, not missing a beat. After a few more strokes, Aaron stopped him. "This feels phenomenal, but I want to see you. I want to see your face."

"Alright," Daryl said in complete euphoria.

Aaron lifted himself off, and Daryl instantly missed the heat and the tightness. He watched Aaron lay down on the bed and take Daryl's arms, pulling him down onto him. Aaron lifted his legs so his ankles rested at Daryl's hips. Daryl's body fell right into place, and he reentered Aaron. Both men let out a moan. They set their rhythm.

Daryl couldn't believe how good it felt. He'd only dreamt of it, and this was nothing like what he'd imagined. Aaron's face was pure ecstasy, enjoying every thrust, every stroke. Daryl moved a little faster, but he didn't want to hurt Aaron. After all, he wasn't the one being used as a sheath.

Aaron's eyes opened and went straight to Daryl's. "I'm almost there. You?"

Yes, he was, Daryl thought. He could come at any moment, and he nodded his answer to Aaron.

"Good," Aaron said between heavy breaths. "Go deep. Fuck me all the way. Hit me in that place. Do it now," Aaron demanded.

Daryl adjusted his position and pushed all the way in until his balls touched Aaron's ass. He felt muscles clench and release, stroking his dick from within. "Aaron … oh shit, Aaron," Daryl called out.

"Oh … yeah, that's it," Aaron said in a strangled voice. "Right there."

Daryl stayed deep, making short fast strokes. Aaron's feet clamped around Daryl's waist. He cried out several times, and Daryl felt his orgasm through his inside muscles. His own orgasm came on, and he felt liquid heat surround his cock. He looked down in time to see Aaron spill between them, covering his own chest with his pearly essence. Both bodies went rigid. Daryl's hips thrust forward involuntarily several times as he poured every last drop into Aaron's body. Then, Aaron pulled him down so he was laying on top of him. Aaron's arms surrounded Daryl's back, stroking him with his fingers along Daryl's spine. Daryl was out of breath.

Aaron held him there, letting Daryl soften inside while they regulated their breathing. Then he smiled against Daryl's neck. "You were magnificent. I don't think I've ever felt anything so good."

"I know I haven't," Daryl replied, and they laughed lightly together. "Shit, I ain't never came so hard before."

"Yeah, I kind of made a mess of myself," Aaron said, referring to his sticky chest.

"I … uh … I never knew we could do it face to face," Daryl admitted shyly.

"Oh, there's all kinds of positions we can get into. I had you start out with the basic first."

"I like basic," Daryl smiled, his long hair hanging in his eyes, damp with sweat.

"I do too," Aaron smiled back, pushing Daryl's hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. He looked longingly into Daryl's eyes. "I … I think … every moment we've spent together, no matter what we're doing, I … I just never want it to end. I want to be with you all the time. And now … it's like we have this bond between us, like we can read each other or something. That's not just simple attraction or lust. It's much deeper than that."

Daryl didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, but he knew what he felt, and it was exactly as Aaron just described.

Aaron broke eye contact and turned his head to the side. "I'm sorry, I know it's kind of soon to be talking like this. I shouldn't have said anything. It's ok if you don't feel the same."

Daryl stopped him by taking Aaron's chin and turning his head so they faced each other again. "But I do."

They kissed slowly and passionately, feeling all the things they just described to each other. Reluctantly, Daryl pulled from Aaron and came to rest by his side. They contoured against each other, Daryl's front to Aaron's back. Daryl's arm was draped across Aaron's waist, and Aaron's hand rested on it.

"You know the one thing I'm truly thankful for?" Aaron asked.

"What's that?"

"This Daryl, right here, right now, I'm the only one who gets to see him, and I kind of like that. You're mine now, all mine."

"And I ain't going nowhere," Daryl whispered with a smile. Then they both fell into a light slumber while the night passed into morning.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 He Who Plays With Fire**

Daryl must have been more tired than he thought. He woke up and the sun was already shining, although it was a pale light. Sunrise wasn't fully here yet. He stretched and turned to face Aaron, but that side of the bed was empty and cold. He was instantly on his feet, scrambling for the pants he had on yesterday. Panic made his stomach clench and his heart go to his throat. Where the hell was Aaron?

He left his bedroom and entered the living room. It was empty. Then he went to the spare rooms. The beds were still made. The kitchen was empty too. "Aaron!" he called, but there was no answer. Daryl glanced to the front door, which was locked up tight. Aaron couldn't have left that way.

"The back," Daryl said to himself and ran to the back door. He ran out onto the deck and searched the area. There was Aaron, on the dock that jetted out onto the lake. He was stepping out of a pair of pajama bottoms, naked as the day he was born, stretching his arms and legs. "What the hell?" Daryl wondered, and he watched as Aaron dived into the still lake. He disappeared beneath the water, and came up a few yards away. Daryl wasn't keen on the idea of Aaron being outside alone. Even though it felt very safe here, one could never be too careful. He grabbed his knife and went out to the dock.

He stood at the edge and watched the ghostly figure slice through the water, noticing that Aaron was a good swimmer. Daryl was a good swimmer too. He'd spent many summers down at the river swimming, tubing, noodling catfish. God, he missed those days. Those had been good times, few and rare.

Aaron popped up for air, back turned to the dock. Daryl cocked his head to the side. "Nice morning for a swim," he said.

Aaron spun around, shocked to find he wasn't alone. "Shit, you scared me. I thought you were still asleep."

"Just woke up." He glanced down at Aaron's pajama pants, and then back to Aaron, one brow raised seductively. "I was watching you. You're a good swimmer … know all the strokes and stuff."

"Yeah, I was on the swim team in high school. Don't get to practice much anymore, so when I see an opportunity, I take it." Aaron swam out away from the dock a little further, treading the water as he stared at Daryl. "You should come in. Water's a little chilly at first, but you get used to it."

Daryl unzipped his pants and worked them down. Aaron kept his eyes trained on him, as Daryl dove into the water, coming up a few feet away. He shook his wet hair, strands flying, spraying water on Aaron, who squinted and turned his head. Daryl slicked his hair back with his hand and watched to see what Aaron would do next. Aaron sunk underwater and circled around him, coming up behind his back.

"Looks like the water isn't too cold after all," he said in an enticing voice.

Daryl turned to face him. Aaron's eyes were dark with desire. It was a very sexy look for him. They closed the distance between them and kissed, slowly, passionately, while treading water. One would start to slip beneath the surface and then the other. The sultry moment turned to laughter as they realized it was much harder to keep their heads above water than they thought.

"I used to could tread water all day," Aaron said between laughing breaths.

"Guess we're not as young as we think we are anymore," Daryl said. "Come this way."

They swam towards the shore until they could feel the bottom beneath their toes. It was muddy and soft, littered with small rocks. Daryl could feel small fish swimming around his ankles, darting in and out of the murk disturbed by their feet. Aaron came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his chin on Daryl's shoulder. "This is much better," he whispered as his hand took up Daryl's half hardened cock. Daryl closed his eyes and enjoyed the ministrations. Aaron's free hand squeezed his ass, traveling ever closer to the place he feared would stir up bad memories. Daryl was very sensitive about it and his body tensed.

"Will you let me try something?" Aaron said in his ear.

"I … I don't know," Daryl said hesitantly.

"I promise not to hurt you, and if you get too uncomfortable, just tell me and I'll stop immediately." As Aaron spoke, his hand slipped easily along Daryl's length beneath the water.

It was difficult to resist, and Daryl really did want to know what Aaron could do to him. "Alright," he said.

Aaron's other hand traveled along his hip, over his ass, down to his inner thigh, and up again. He was getting close to a very personal place. The hand spread him, fingers searching and finding what they desired. The feeling sent a warning signal through Daryl's body. He tensed and pushed away from Aaron. "Don't," he said quietly, though unconvincingly.

"I'll stop if you really want me to," Aaron told him as his teeth sunk into Daryl's shoulder.

"It's just … I-I don't know if I can," Daryl confessed nervously.

"Do you trust me, Daryl?" Aaron asked in a calm seductive voice.

"You know I do," Daryl answered, but his body said otherwise. He was still keeping his distance.

"Then let me show you that this can be a pleasurable experience."

Daryl was still hesitant. "I'm afraid to … feel things … things that haunt me," he said honestly.

"I'm not him, and what I want to do is not the same thing he did to you. I would never force you, but I can show you pleasure if only you're willing."

This was just the situation Daryl had trouble with, letting someone else control him, control his body and its reaction. But he knew if he wanted to move forward with Aaron, he'd have to give in sooner or later. He knew Aaron wanted badly to pleasure him the way Daryl had satisfied him last night. "Alright," he finally agreed, and he felt Aaron smile against his neck.

Aaron spread him, caressed him, moving slowly until he found Daryl's entrance. Daryl's body stiffened with resistance. "Relax," Aaron soothed. "It will feel better if you're a little more limber. Just a touch." Aaron's finger circled the entrance, dipping in only slightly. He did this a few times until Daryl seemed accepting of his touch. Then he pushed in and a little bit more.

"It … feels good," Daryl moaned, as both of Aaron's hands were busy bringing his body to life, one on his ass and one on his cock.

"I knew it would," Aaron whispered. His tongue ran along the back of Daryl's ear, sucking the lobe in between his teeth and biting softly. While Daryl's attention was focused on that, Aaron slipped in a second finger. Daryl gasped, and Aaron slowed down a bit. "Is this alright?" he asked to make sure.

"Y-yeah," Daryl stammered.

"Just a little more," Aaron warned, pushing his fingers in further. Daryl gasped again, but it was a pleasurable intake of air so Aaron continued massaging and circling. He whispered into Daryl's ear, warm breath sending goosebumps along the man's arms. "There's a place where, once I touch you there, it will give you such an orgasm that you'll want me to do this every time."

Daryl couldn't help but notice how well Aaron knew the male body. He knew just where to touch, and how far to go to make Daryl harden and pulse. His fingers were working some kind of magic, stimulating somewhere that Daryl hadn't known existed.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Aaron whispered once more, and Daryl nodded. "And I haven't even gotten to the good part yet."

"What are you waiting for?" Daryl challenged. Aaron was right. Whatever had happened in the past, it felt nothing like this. He felt himself losing control. His breathing became erratic. His cocked was stiff and aching for release, balls tightening as Aaron stroked him. Then, Aaron's fingers went deeper, massaging him in just the right place that made his whole body shiver with delight. Aaron went there again and again, his fingers arousing him until he couldn't hold back. He threw his head back on Aaron's shoulder and cried out with pleasure as his orgasm exploded, seeing stars bounce off the water around him. Aaron slowed and eventually stopped his movements, slid out, and brought his arms around Daryl's middle. They stayed that way as Daryl recovered and regained his bearings. For a moment, Daryl didn't know where he was. He was everywhere and he was nowhere. He wasn't a part of the world anymore, as though he floated out of his body. But as he came to his senses, he felt Aaron holding him firmly, and never felt so safe.

"That … that was–" Daryl stuttered, unable to find the right word to describe the glorious moment.

"That's how it's supposed to be. That's how it will be every time, as long as you're with me," Aaron promised. He loosened his grip as Daryl turned to face him. "I don't want to leave this place. Why can't we stay here, just you and me?"

"Well, for one, my friends will come looking for us, and Rick will have your balls in a vice if we don't get back in time," Daryl reminded him jovially. Daryl looked up at the sky, judging the time by the position of the sun. "We still got a little time before we have to leave, and get back to town by afternoon."

Aaron smiled fiendishly. "What are you suggesting we do to kill a couple hours?"

"That we go back inside, and you let me–"

Daryl stopped talking and the hairs rose on the back of his neck as he heard the all too familiar sound. They both looked across the lake, and saw three walkers trailing along the distant shore. "Shit," Daryl said with extreme disappointment.

They hadn't been spotted, not from this distance, and they were still in the water. Aaron narrowed his eyes and watched. "The lake is long. There's no way across for miles on either side."

"They don't see us either. Still, just knowing their out there . . ."

"They're always out there," Aaron said discouragingly.

"Guess we better get going then. We don't want to give them a reason to try and find their way across the lake."

They snuck out of the water, grabbed their clothes from the dock, and went back into the house. Silently, they gathered their things and prepared to head back to Alexandria. As they left the cabin, Daryl looked back with longing to stay. "Time to go back to reality."

"So, does this mean you'll be tracking with me again? The job's still available," Aaron smiled.

"Yeah, I never much cared for guard duty anyways. Not enough action." Daryl started to walk away, but he stopped and turned to Aaron again. "You know we have to keep things quiet about us, right?"

"I assumed that, yeah," Aaron said. "I don't want to, but I understand. I just hope that eventually we won't have to. You will talk to your friends, won't you?"

Daryl never considered telling anyone about his relationship. He'd spent so many years in denial that it had become a way of life for him. Aaron looked hopeful, though, and he didn't want to disappoint him. So he nodded in answer. "Yeah, eventually, in my own time." But deep down he thought he'd never get to that point. Eric, of course knew, and now Carol knew. That was two too many people. "One step at a time," he told Aaron, kissing him once more before they went off to find their vehicles and go back to town.

* * *

It was late in the day when they finally arrived in Alexandria. Daryl was actually surprised to see members of his group waiting around the gate. Rick was there, and so was Carol, Michonne and Glenn. The extraction team, Daryl thought to himself. They looked like they were ready to go out searching for him. Aaron wasn't kidding when he said Rick gave him until this afternoon to bring Daryl back.

They pulled in past the gate, Daryl on his bike and Aaron in the car. Daryl parked his bike to the side and got off. He lifted his arms out to his side and shrugged as he approached his people. "What? A guy can't go out for a joyride without everyone getting their panties in a twist?"

Carol was first to go to him, and she hugged him. Daryl was his usual aloof self, hesitating before he brought his hand up to half hug her back. She released him and punched him in the arm. "Where the hell did you go? You had us all worried."

"Yeah, about that … sorry," he said in a monotone voice. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses he found in the cabin, so dark no one could see his eyes.

"Well, you look like shit," Rick said coming up to them, but he wore a smile despite his insult.

"I missed you too, Hoss," he joked. Daryl guessed he did look pretty rugged. He hadn't shaved. His clothes were dirty. His hair was a mess from riding on his bike. He hadn't had a proper shower in a couple days, unless you counted swimming in the lake that morning. And he was scratched and bruised from his mindless stent of zombie hunting.

"What happened to you? Why'd you take off like that?" Rick asked, being the cop again.

"You know how it is. Sometimes this place is too confining," Daryl answered.

"And you couldn't wait a while, at least until you could get your weapons?" Rick interrogated.

Michonne stepped forward, giving him the eye. "Deanna isn't very happy with you at the moment. The only thing saving you is the fact that you only took your own weapons. You'll have to deal with her."

"I will, but tomorrow. I'm in no mood to talk to the teacher today," he said arrogantly. Daryl knew he wasn't in too much trouble, otherwise, Deanna would have been there at the gate to scold him.

"If it will help any, I'll speak with Deanna," Aaron said, coming forward after hanging back while Daryl met with his group. He smiled, looking innocent and geeky, but Daryl knew the truth. Aaron was a tough son of a bitch when he needed to be. Perhaps Daryl wasn't the only one with a split identity.

Rick approached Aaron. Daryl kept an eye on them, just in case Rick tried to give him shit. It looked like he might, but at the last moment, Rick extended his hand. Aaron gave a genuine smile, and accepted the gesture of peace by giving a firm shake.

"Thank you, Aaron," Rick said. "You did just what you said you'd do. I appreciate that."

Aaron played up the shyness routine, and Daryl tried not to laugh as he imagined him saying, 'Golly gee, Mr. Grimes. I was just doing like you asked.' He didn't of course.

"I said I'd find him and I did. I'm a man of my word, Rick. I always have been," Aaron told him.

Rick nodded with approval as Daryl came up next to him. He looked out into the distance, eyes hidden by his shades, and made sure not to look at Aaron as he spoke. "You can trust Aaron. He's good people. He wouldn't steer us wrong."

Just then, Aaron spoke up to make an announcement. "I'd like to invite you all, and the rest of you who aren't here at the moment, to come to my house tonight. No big deal, just some beer and conversation. I know I'm a little late with the welcome wagon, but I'd like to get to know you all better. I think we got off to kind of a rocky start."

"I think we can do that," Carol smiled, answering for the rest of her people. "Rick, what do you think?"

"Yeah, I think we can," he answered with his usual amount of defiance. Rick was definitely the most difficult one of them to win over.

"Great," Aaron said excitedly. "So about eight or so? You know where I live. And if you don't Daryl does … I mean … because he used to live with me … well, me and Eric … when Eric was still with me … and … ok, so I'll see you all then," he rambled nervously.

Carol patted him on the back. "We'll see you in a few." She leaned towards him and said quietly, "It's ok. We don't bite … usually."

Later that evening, most of Rick's people came to Aaron's house. It was a very relaxed atmosphere, and they all seemed to have a good time. They were opening up to Aaron, accepting him into their tight net group. Everyone had a different story to share, and Aaron learned a lot about them. Daryl watched the night progress, but mainly he watched Aaron from behind his long hair. The guy could be a real social butterfly when he wanted to. He'd bounce from this one to that one, laugh at their stories, or be amazed by some harrowing event they endured. Daryl was catching on to what he was doing, pairing people up and getting them to have conversations between each other. He would group some of them, and then throw a starter question out. When everyone was engaged in discussion, and the attention wasn't on him, Aaron would find Daryl in the room, his eyes immediately scanning from head to toe in a way that warmed Daryl quite enticingly. He was doing it on purpose, Daryl thought, and let himself get sucked into the daring game of catch me if you can.

Conversations, storytelling, laughter, it wasn't long before Aaron had everyone enjoying each other's company. Then, his sultry stare would fall on Daryl, seducing him from across the room. He was very good at being discrete, and he was careful that no one saw him flirting, but when he had Daryl's attention, he didn't hesitate to give him some kind of sign. The one that drove Daryl mad the most was when Aaron would bit his lower lip while scanning Daryl's body with his amatory gaze. It was getting more and more difficult to ignore Aaron's coquettish behavior, as though he was challenging Daryl not to react in some way.

At one point, Aaron approached him, a sly smile on his face. "Are we having fun yet?"

"You're playing with fire, you know that," Daryl said in return, his voice low and seductive.

"Is that what this is? I thought it was getting kind of hot in here."

"Oh, you haven't even begun to feel the heat yet."

"I like the sound of that," Aaron answered before running off to be a good host for a little while longer.

Aaron gave Daryl a few more beguiling looks where his eyes ravished him from the other side of the room. He got the last of the guests distracted with conversation, bowing out when no one was paying attention. He caught Daryl watching him and smiled. Aaron's eyes deliberately turned upwards with suggestion to the second floor, and then he disappeared down the hall that led to the stairs at the front of the house. Daryl then made his way in the same direction, stopping along the way to say a word or two to the guests in their little groups. He bounced from one to the other until he was at the hall entrance, gave the room a quick glance, and when he was sure no one was paying attention, he disappeared to follow Aaron upstairs. No one was the wiser, and they wouldn't miss either of them for a few minutes, just long enough for a private moment alone together.

Daryl reached the top of the stairs, and noticed the door to Aaron's room cracked open in invitation. He looked back down the stairs, and when he was sure no one was following, he went to the door and slipped inside. The bedroom door closed quietly behind him, and he turned to find Aaron leaning against it.

Daryl did a quick scan of the room. He'd never been in here, even though he lived here for a while. Daryl had stayed in a spare room downstairs to give Aaron and Eric as much privacy as was possible. The room was decorated very masculine in style, with deep burgundy and rich browns. There was no woman's touch anywhere. Whoever owned this house at one time was probably a bachelor. He might have used his motorcycle to obtain his women, brought them here to spend the night, and used his expensive taste to impress them. What was it about women drawn to men who owned bikes? He started to wonder if that's what drew Aaron to him in the first place, but his thoughts abandoned him when his attention came back to Aaron.

Aaron's eyes were wide and his lips parted. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to for Daryl to know what he wanted. He threw himself upon Aaron, pinning him to the door, and captured his mouth roughly. Their bodies pressed against each other, writhing with pleasure. Aaron's hands took up fistfuls of Daryl's hair, as Daryl ground his hips against Aaron. Daryl pulled away and searched the other's face, finding him caught in a spell of desire.

"I told you, you were playing with fire," Daryl growled seductively.

"Yeah, well, maybe I like the heat," Aaron replied, and then he pulled Daryl down to his mouth again. They kissed a little slower, but not without any less rapture. When they finally gained some control, Aaron spoke. "God, I thought I could contain myself with you around, but just the sight of you is intoxicating."

"It doesn't help to have you undressing me with your eyes every time I look over at you. You get me all worked up when there's nothing I can do about it," Daryl said.

"Why do you think I brought you up here?" Aaron said. "It hasn't been but a few hours, and already I miss being alone with you." He kissed him tenderly and pulled away. "How are we going to do this, Daryl?"

"We'll find the time to be alone, but not right now, with a house full of my friends downstairs, who are probably starting to wonder where their host has gotten off to." Daryl started to back away, but at the last second, he was upon Aaron again, rubbing their bodies together. "But I'll tell you one thing. When I get you alone, I'm gonna take my time and slowly torture you the way you've been doing me all night."

"Promise?" Aaron asked wantonly, and Daryl exhaled a feral growl, kissed him hard one more time, fixed his shirt and vest, and left the room with Aaron still inside.

He went to the stairs, finding it clear of anyone nosing around. He descended quickly, but came slowly around the corner where everyone was gathered in the living room. Everyone seemed busy talking and enjoying themselves, but Carol had her eye on him, and he felt like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. She cocked her head to the side, gesturing for him to come by her. Daryl looked around, hoping someone else might want his attention. No one did, and when Carol crossed her arms and glared, he knew there was no hope of rescue, and he went to her. Maggie was the only one who stopped him, but it was only to welcome him back. "Glad everything's alright," she said with a smile. "You feeling ok?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"Good," she nodded, giving him no reason to stay and engage in further conversation. Time to face mother hen.

Daryl went to Carol, stood next to her and faced the crowd, not wanting to make eye contact with her. He had a feeling she could read everything about him if she looked into his eyes.

"So, you planning on staying for a while?" she smirked.

"I never planned on leaving permanently," he answered, body tense and chewing on his bottom lip.

"You know you screwed things up for us when you broke into the weapons room," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Rick and I were trying to find a way to get in there without anyone knowing. Now there will be extra security on the place."

"So what is this? You gonna steal all the weapons and take over Alexandria?" he wondered.

"No, but we want more control than we currently have. Listen, things have been kind of tense around here. Not everyone agrees with the job Deanna's been doing. Those same people don't like the fact that our people have been allowed in, or that some of us have been given important leadership roles. I've been asking questions and talking to some of the other women in town, and I've come to the conclusion that Deanna is trustworthy, and that she's done the best she can do, but unless we've got her back, she's going to eventually be overruled."

"Then why don't we just go to her and tell her this?" Daryl asked.

"Because the same people that want her out of power are the same ones whispering in her ear, telling her not to trust us."

Daryl turned to her with a questioning look. "So by stealing weapons, how is that going to gain her trust?"

"We don't want to steal the weapons. We just want to make sure we have easy access to them if we should need them. It's very complicated at this point. Basically, we all need to keep our noses clean, do the jobs we've been given, and not get in trouble. We can't give her ammunition to use against us when we finally try to convince her we are her best option for survival and keeping this place walker proof."

"Yeah, alright, I get it. I'll talk to her tomorrow, give her some story as to why I did what I did. I'll try to patch things up. It won't help make the weapons room any easier to access."

Carol sighed. "No, but we'll figure something out."

They stood side by side for a while, watching everyone else in the room. It was good to see so many smiling faces. It was nice of Aaron to invite them all. Daryl was sure this would help them trust him more. Aaron wanted to be accepted by Daryl's people. He'd seen that from the first time they all met. Aaron knew that this group was the right group to associate with.

Aaron came out from around the corner with an armful of beer bottles, handing them to anyone that wanted one. His eyes swept across the room, saw Daryl, froze on him a moment, and then continued on around the area. Carol leaned towards Daryl, keeping her eye on the crowd. "I like him," she said happily.

"Yep," he said tersely.

"You like him too, I gather," she egged him on.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled.

"Daryl, I … I know. Aaron … told me," she confessed.

"I know," he answered.

"Oh," she said surprised. "Well, were you going to tell me? You did promise … you know … glass slipper and all that." She nudged him with her elbow.

"Not exactly the kind of thing you blurt out to everyone, at least not for me."

"Well, I'm not everyone. And besides, you think any of us would think any less of you for knowing?"

Daryl shook his head. "It's more complicated than that, and this is not the place to discuss it."

Carol huffed with aggravation. "Alright, fine, but you owe me a talk. You're my best friend. I trust you over everyone, and I hope you trust me too. In your own time, when you're ready, I'm here for you, and I'd really like to know." She was very sincere, and she made Daryl feel guilty for not talking to her, but now wasn't the time. When they had a moment alone, he would. She bumped him with her shoulder playfully. "If it means anything, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," he murmured.

"A little disappointed that you're off the market," she continued in a teasing way. "And I mean really 'off-the-market', but I'm glad you found someone."

Daryl nodded, and he felt bad for shutting her out right now, but he couldn't talk about it with so many people around. She was right, they were very close and they trusted each other tremendously. He didn't have to tell her all his secrets, but he would share this new news with her. Other than Carol and Aaron, he had no one to talk to. "Tomorrow," he said quietly from the side of his mouth.

"Tomorrow?" she asked, and then she realized what he was talking about. "Oh, tomorrow. Sure, yeah, that's good."

"Come to my place."

"Ok, I'll bake you a pie, how about that?"

Daryl looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You're taking this 'Suzie homemaker' thing a bit far, don't you think?"

"I've got nothing else to do around here, so do you want a friggin' pie or not?"

Daryl smiled. "There she is. There's the Carol I know. Tell you what. You bring the pie, I'll have some hooch."

"Now we're talking." She pat his shoulder and humbled a moment. "I'm glad you're home, Daryl, and yes, this is home, despite what you want to believe. We're going to make this place work. We have to."

"I see that now. It will take some work, but it is a good place." And it was a good place, but not because of its high walls or its efficient self-sustaining abilities. It was good because Aaron was here, and it was because of him that Daryl finally felt like he was home.

The party came to a close, and the guests were getting ready to leave. Aaron made a good impression, and a new trust connected him to the group. Rick welcomed him personally, and Aaron said he'd help the group in any way he could.

"Good," Rick concurred. "I'd like to talk to you about a few things that I'm not sure you're aware of. It's about Deanna and her leadership role."

"And the fact that she may be threatened? Yes, I've already got an idea of what's been going on. I know a few of the participants who side with the opposition," Aaron informed him, and Rick's brows raised with surprise, impressed with Aaron's advanced knowledge of the situation. Aaron smiled audaciously. "I know, I'm the quirky gay guy, so how could I possibly know things? When the mouth is closed, the eyes and ears open."

Rick dared to let the corner of his mouth turn up as he observed Aaron. "Alright, so how do you feel about being our eyes and ears?"

"I'm in," Aaron accepted without hesitation.

"Good," Rick started to turn away, but he stopped. "One more thing. You and Daryl patch up your differences?"

Daryl heard the question and tensed. What did he mean by that? He watched Aaron's reaction, but he looked unfazed. "We worked it out." He glanced at Daryl. "The recruiting job is still open, if you'll accept the position again," he said, keeping it very professional.

Daryl didn't want to come off as too anxious. He glared at Aaron a moment, making it look like he was considering the offer. Rick went to him and whispered. "I need you out there. I need you and Aaron to be the first ones that any new people meet from town. From now on, new residents are going to be persuaded to join a side, and I'd rather have them on our side."

Daryl didn't like the idea of a war already brewing within the town, but it seemed inevitable. "Maybe we shouldn't recruit any new townspeople until we know what's going on with the current ones," Daryl suggested.

"No, you have to do your job or it will look suspicious. Just be very choosy with who you bring back. You know what we look for. Ask them the questions," Rick told him.

Daryl stepped aside and approached Aaron. Aaron took a stance, pointing his chin in the air pugnaciously. Daryl watched him with narrowed eyes beneath long hair. "I accept," he said.

It felt like the whole room breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time, Daryl and Aaron were secretly enjoying their little show. They followed each other's lead without missing a beat. With everyone satisfied with the outcome, the guests began filing out the front door. Carol was on her way out and stopped. She smiled at Aaron and thanked him for a nice evening. Then she hugged Daryl and whispered in his ear. "Nice touch."

Daryl gave her a slight smile and made his way to the door. He thought they'd leave together, make it look less conspicuous, but Aaron took hold of his arm, stopping him. "Where do you think you're going," he said.

"I'm going home, where else?" Daryl returned.

"You're not going anywhere," Aaron replied. Daryl thought he might die as Maggie and Glenn overheard the exchange. Aaron justified his reasoning. "You want back on the team? We've got work to do. Vacation time's over. I've got maps of the area. We can go over them."

Maggie laughed quietly. "Better watch out, Aaron. Daryl doesn't take orders easily."

"Don't I know it," he answered.

Everyone was gone, and Aaron started to walk back into the living room. "Well, that went well," he said. "I don't think anyone thought–" Aaron found himself being shoved chest first against the wall, cheek pressed into the drywall.

Daryl brought himself close, and whispered behind Aaron's ear. "That was a risky move." His voice was dark and dangerous. "These people know I don't like to be ordered around. You better think twice before you do that again."

"Whoa whoa, hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just trying to play a part. I know you don't want anyone becoming suspicious of us, so I thought that if I–"

Suddenly, Aaron was whipped around, back to the wall, cutting off his apology. Daryl had him by the wrists, and lifted them above his head. His body pressed against Aaron's, flattening him against the wall. Daryl was very obviously endowed with excitement, and Aaron felt himself growing too. Daryl's dark eyes boar into Aaron's, hips gyrating, grinding himself against Aaron.

"Damn, you make me want you," Daryl said, and he kissed Aaron, who didn't hesitate to return the affection. "I've been wanting to do this all night."

"That was kind of the idea," Aaron confessed, "to get you all worked up."

"Yeah, well, it worked." Daryl released Aaron's wrists, but he still held him against the wall. Aaron's hands went to Daryl's waist, grasping at his shirt, and pulling him closer.

Their kisses were demanding, each man battling for control of the other. Aaron finally won, and turned them around so that Daryl's back was against the wall, though Daryl didn't put up much of a struggle. Aaron abandoned Daryl's mouth, focusing his attention on the neck as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of the man's shirt. Once they were unfastened, he pushed the material to the sides, looked down and admired the toned body before him. Aaron's hands roamed over the smooth flesh, traveling lower until they came to Daryl's belt. Making light work of it, he unbuckled it easily, pushed the button through the loop of the pants, and at a torturously slow pace, pulled the zipper down. His hands slipped inside the waistband and pushed them half way down Daryl's hips. Aaron leaned back slightly to admire the trail of dark hair that ran from the bellybutton down, leading to the object of his attention. He looked back at Daryl, searching for permission to continue. Aaron knew he had to move slowly with Daryl. There were still things that could trigger him if taken by surprise. Daryl's lips were parted and hungry, eyes dark with desire. He gave a single nod, and resigned to let Aaron take the lead. Aaron then focused all his attention on the man before him, the one who put all his trust in him.

Aaron fell to his knees, released Daryl from the confines of his pants, licked his lips and looked up at his charge once more. Daryl's fingers slid through Aaron's short brown hair, his hand cupping the back of Aaron's head, and drew him forward. Aaron took the hardened cock in his mouth and began a slow manipulation. Daryl's head fell back against the wall, and he let out a soft moan as Aaron's mouth assaulted him most salaciously. Aaron took most of Daryl's cock in his mouth, and he was doing the most amazing thing with his tongue. Daryl was having trouble containing himself. It wouldn't be long before he lost control. He already relinquished control of his gyrating hips, as they forced Aaron to take more of him into the others mouth. Daryl's hand held Aaron's head in place as Aaron's lips surrounded him, sucked him, tongue caressing and circling, teasing along the tip, then flattening and sliding along the underside of his dick. Daryl felt it build, that incredible wave of gloriousness. He stilled and let Aaron finish him off. The last thing Daryl did was to look down and watch his cock disappear into Aaron's mouth. To watch him made it even more sensual. Daryl's body thrust forward and stilled. He threw his head back, eyes closed, mouth agape. "Oh Aaron," he cried out, releasing all the air from his lungs. He came in Aaron's accepting mouth, tongue milking every last drop. Aaron moaned, and the vibrations helped extend the life of Daryl's orgasm. Aaron released him slowly, and Daryl watched. He pulled him up from the floor, his arms surrounding Aaron's neck, and kissed him, tasting himself on Aaron's tongue. It was the most erotic thing to ever happen to him. Aaron was a great lover. How could Daryl be so lucky?

They rested their foreheads against each other. Aaron smiled while Daryl attempted to catch his breath. "That was … fucking incredible," Daryl said.

"Glad you think so," Aaron smiled.

"But you're making me feel guilty."

"Why?" Aaron wondered.

"You keep doing these things to me, and … and I want to return the pleasure."

Aaron's hand slipped through Daryl's hair, and he looked him in his blue eyes. "I get my pleasure watching you. Besides, there's plenty of–"

"No," Daryl interrupted. "I mean, I want you to … take me … you know … have me … in that way."

"Daryl, I don't have to do that to find pleasure. There are other ways."

"I know, but … I … I want to. I really think I'm ready for this," Daryl confessed. It was a huge step, but it was the last piece of the puzzle. If he could endure having sex that way, then he would know he was finally free of his past. But it was more than that. Daryl wanted him and Aaron to be equal in everything, and that included sex. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't think I could go through with it."

"Alright," Aaron answered. He smiled as he thought of the prospect. "Let's go upstairs … if you want to."

"Yeah, I do," Daryl answered, kissing him again.

* * *

The sun was coming up, but there was an eerie glow cutting through the curtains. Red sky in the morning, Daryl thought to himself. "It's gonna rain today," he said when Aaron stretched as he woke up.

"We could use the rain, especially my garden. It's been unseasonably dry lately." Aaron rolled onto his side. He reached out and felt the light hair on Daryl's chest. "How do you feel this morning?"

"A little sore, but in a good way."

"Well, I thought you were incredible."

"Yeah?" the corner of Daryl's mouth quirked up.

"Oh yeah, most definitely," Aaron encouraged.

They laid silently side by side, basking in the joy of waking up next to each other. They knew it couldn't be this way all the time, so they would relish these times.

"What is this, Daryl?" Aaron asked after a while.

"What's what?" Daryl responded, unsure of the question.

"What's this? Us? I've never felt this way before. I mean, I've had relationships in the past where I thought for sure I had … this … but those don't even come close," Aaron admitted.

"I don't have anything to compare it to, but I know when something seems … real. I think that's just it. We're real with each other, nothing to hide, complete trust and respect. We just get each other, that's all."

"I guess that's enough, right?"

"Yeah, that's what matters."

Aaron leaned in and kissed Daryl slowly and passionately. Daryl's hand came up and cupped the back of Aaron's head, drawing him in closer. He could feel himself begin to swell, his need becoming apparent to Aaron too. Aaron ended the kiss, though reluctantly, as he slid out of Daryl's grasp. "I could stay in bed with you all day, but we've got stuff to do this morning, and you need to go home and change. Everyone will know you're wearing the same thing you had on last night at the party."

"Hell, I've been known to wear the same outfit for days at a time, and ain't nobody complained."

Aaron cocked a brow questioningly. "And you're proud of this fact?"

"I'm not exactly Mr. GQ, you know what I mean?" Daryl jested. "What do we have to do anyways?"

"For one, you need to speak with Deanna, clear the air with her. And for another, I've got a few things I need to do today."

"Like what?" Daryl asked, trying to stall for time.

"Well, I've been gone for a few days, and I need to check in with some of my people, see if there are any requests for supplies or special needs. Glenn is getting ready to head out on another run."

"You have to do that right now?" Daryl said seductively.

"You drive a hard bargain, but duty calls, and I gotta get in the shower."

Daryl fell back onto the bed, hands behind his head and a wicked smile adorning his face. "Alright, have it your way. Don't say I never tried."

Aaron couldn't help himself. Daryl was laying there, looking sexy as hell, half aroused, almost begging. Aaron ducked under the cover, but peeked out before he completely disappeared. "Maybe just a few more minutes." He pulled the cover over his head, and made his way lower. Suddenly, Daryl found himself engulfed with warmth, and Aaron's tongue caressing his cock.

Daryl smiled to himself before he forgot space and time. He learned something about Aaron today. He was easily convinced when it came to sex. "Oh … fuck yeah."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 Hunter in Training**

After waking up in Aaron's bed, and enjoying a very satisfying morning, Daryl finally got up and got his day going. He made a pit stop at his house to change his clothes, and appear slightly more presentable than usual before going to Deanna's house. There, he withstood her accusations and tried to explain his actions for breaking into the weapon room. In the end, he was banned from the room for an indefinite amount of time. Someone would have to sign out his weapons for him, and if he was seen anywhere near the facility, he would be escorted away immediately. Small price to pay, he thought. Deanna had been lenient, probably because she didn't think he was a threat, but to appear to be in charge of the situation, and send a message to others not to try. Daryl was alright with it, and he promised her it wouldn't happen again. She was quick to forgive, and the whole thing seemed like it got blown out of proportion.

As he was leaving Deanna's home, he heard the front door of the adjacent house close, and looked up to see Caleb descending the stairs of the front porch. Caleb looked up and saw Daryl, smiled, and came right over to him. Daryl hadn't seen much of him since bringing the boy to Alexandria.

"Hey, Caleb, how's it going, man?" Daryl said enthusiastically.

"Ok, I guess. I heard you left for a while. Glad you're back now," Caleb said, skirting the question and turning all the attention onto Daryl.

"Just needed a break, you know."

"They said you broke into the weapons room. Dude, that's bad ass," Caleb said, like a fan admiring his idol.

"It was a stupid thing to do," Daryl said to discourage him.

"So, what happened, Deanna ground you? Send you to your room without supper?" Caleb joked.

"Something like that," Daryl mumbled as he looked back at the house where Caleb came out of. "Who lives there?"

Caleb looked back, the sun making him squint his eyes. "That's the shrink's house."

So, he'd just come from one of his sessions. Daryl was glad the boy was still getting help. It seemed to be working. Caleb wasn't depressed or suicidal. Then again, he was young. Daryl was young too, and he kept going, choosing to suffer in silence. Yeah, Caleb was strong. He'd get through this just like Daryl did. He was a good kid, and he knew how to keep fighting through tragedy.

"So, uh, what are you doing?" Caleb asked.

"I gotta go meet with my people, find out what's on the agenda for today." As they talked, they walked down the street in the direction of Rick's house.

"Hey Daryl?" Caleb asked, as though needing permission.

"Yeah?"

"So … I've heard things … like … some of the people here don't like your group, and they're trying to get you banished," Caleb commented.

"Who'd you hear that from?" Daryl wondered.

"I was hanging with some of the kids in town, and they were talking about it. I was wondering if it was true."

Some kids, Daryl thought to himself. Probably overheard it from their parents, most likely. Better tell Caleb what was going on. "Yeah, there's certain people who don't like how quickly we've made places for ourselves here."

"They say you want to take over the town and run Alexandria," Caleb said carefully.

"We want to make sure this place stays safe, that's all. Some of the people here don't understand how easily things can turn to shit," Daryl told him honestly.

"Yeah, I get that. I've seen it happen … you know … at the fire station." Caleb's tone turned sullen. It was a difficult thing to think about and mention. "But I've seen you fight. You know what you're doing. Some of these people here have been behind these walls since the beginning. They've never had to go out there and survive. I think it makes perfect sense to have you guys here. You all should be teaching the others how to fight, just in case."

Caleb was definitely smart, and he'd seen things while he was out there. He knew the dangers too. This gave Daryl an idea. "How much do you know about fighting?"

"Not much," Caleb said sadly.

"You handled that gun pretty well," Daryl said.

"Beginners luck. I'd never held one, let alone shot one before. I'm good at hiding and making my way through the shadows … not getting caught, that sort of thing."

"That might have worked for you so far, but you're going to need to know how to protect yourself and others. Knowing how to shoot a gun is important, but not always the best option. Walkers are attracted to the noise."

"What about a bow like yours?" Caleb asked eagerly. Daryl thought that maybe he'd been giving this some thought already.

"Do they have one here?" Daryl asked.

"Don't know, but I could find out."

"Will they even let you have a weapon?" Daryl wondered. "They got some kind of age restriction or something?"

"I don't know, but I'm turning eighteen next week, and legally that's considered an adult," Caleb said.

"Kid, in this screwed up world, you become an adult a lot sooner than that," Daryl said, thinking of Carl and what all he'd seen and done. "Tell you what. You get a weapon, and I'll teach you how to use it. You'll need a couple knives too, and I don't mean some cheap ass shit either. Hunting knives with a good grip and something to holster it in. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right."

"Alright, I'll work on it," Caleb agreed.

They walked on a little further, and Daryl waited until there was a lull in the conversation to ask something else he was curious about. "So, that shrink, she helping you any? Or you just going through the motions."

"Alison? Yeah, she's cool, I guess. We don't talk too much about what happened, but we do exercises, as she calls them. It helps me reroute my thoughts and dreams when they gang up on me. It's tough though. Still too fresh in my mind."

"Yeah, some things are difficult to forget," Daryl muttered. They went a few more yards in silence.

"So, it happened to you too?" Caleb asked.

"What?" Daryl replied on the defensive.

"I, um … at that place in the woods … that night … I … I-I overheard you talking to Aaron. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, and I didn't hear everything, but–"

"Yeah, it happened to me," Daryl admitted. "A long time ago."

"How'd it happen?" Caleb dared to ask.

"A family friend broke his trust," Daryl said.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah."

"Alison said since I'm turning eighteen, I can decide on where I want to live," Caleb informed him.

"What do you mean? Who you living with now?"

"Oh, I'm staying with the Caviarti family. They're nice and all, but sometimes I feel like I've overstayed my welcome."

"I know the feeling," Daryl said, thinking back to when he lived with Aaron and Eric. It seemed like an age since that time. So much had changed since then. "So, what you gonna do? Get a place of your own?"

"No, I really don't like being alone, but I don't want to stay with a family either. I … I was wondering if I could come live with you?" Caleb asked hesitantly.

Daryl remembered what Aaron had said about Caleb bonding to him, but he wasn't ready to let the kid move in with him. "I don't know, Caleb."

"It's ok. Just thought I'd ask," Caleb responded sadly.

"It's not that I don't want you around," Daryl justified. "But you said you don't like to be alone, and I'm gone a lot. I'll be recruiting with Aaron again, and I'll be gone for days at a time." The truth was, he'd already taken responsibility for a young kid once before. Beth. And in the end, he couldn't protect her. He didn't want to risk it again. "You know who I think you should ask is Rick, or if you want I'll ask for you. It's just him and Carl. It's not your typical 'family' with them, you know? Carl's got a lot of responsibility, and his dad has taught him all he knows. And Carl is only a couple years younger than you. You all get along, don't you?"

"Yeah, I like Carl. I guess that would work."

"Good, I'll talk to Rick."

"Cool," Caleb agreed. "You'll still teach me to shoot won't you?"

Daryl roughed up Caleb's hair and flung his arm around the kid's shoulder. "Of course I will. You gotta learn from the best, right?"

* * *

Daryl eventually talked to Rick, who agreed to take Caleb in. They also discussed bringing Caleb into the group. He'd be good at spying on some of the town's people. Daryl was hesitant about that idea. Caleb had gone through some pretty tragic stuff lately, and he wasn't sure involving the boy in their schemes was exactly the right thing to do. Rick seemed pretty set on it, though. Daryl liked Rick, and trusted him about a lot of things. The thing was, Rick could sometimes forget about people's personal lives and how some of his decisions to move ahead with a plan affected those around him. To Rick, what mattered most was protecting those who didn't oppose him, and expunging those who did. That was all well and fine, but when he didn't take into account the people he used to see that his plan went through, that's when people got hurt. Daryl wouldn't see Caleb hurt any more than he already had been, and playing spy could be dangerous. He voiced his concerns delicately, and Rick agreed. They'd keep Caleb's role with the group to a minimum.

As for these people who opposed Daryl's group being in Alexandria, they didn't know who all the players were, but there was definitely at least one person running the show. Rick explained. "We're being watched and those people are reporting to someone. Someone is organizing it, gathering information, learning our routines, watching us. I don't like it, but we have no choice but to put up with it for now. Everyone needs to do their best at sticking to the rules. Keep clean and do your jobs." Here, Rick turned to Daryl. Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Man, I know … I know. I already talked to Deanna this morning. She just said I couldn't go near the weapons room for a while. Have to let someone else check out my weapons, give them to me at the gate, that sort of shit. I feel like I'm in first grade and the teacher took away my toys."

Rick raised his eyebrows like he always did when he was trying to get a point across. "Just stick to the rules. Got it?"

"Yeah, man." Daryl's voice rose a few octaves, as though to say, quit pestering me, I get it.

"Carol, you keep friendly with the wives. Any of them start acting suspicious, then we know they're rooting for the other team," Rick suggested.

"I'll keep doing what I've been doing," she agreed.

"Maggie, you stay at Deanna's side. We need to know if any threats come to her."

"Will do," Maggie smiled.

"Glenn, what's your situation?" Rick asked.

"I'm still head of the supply search team, but I usually have someone with me that I don't really know. It's a mixed group of us most of the time," Glenn answered.

"Just watch your back out there. It's too easy to get into a situation where someone can see that you don't come back," Rick warned, and Glenn nodded.

"Well, Daryl, looks like you and Aaron are the only ones who don't have someone looking over your shoulder when you're out there," Rick mentioned.

"Yeah, but the hounds are waiting to pounce on any newbies just as soon as we bring 'em back," Daryl said.

"That's why you have to choose wisely, and earn their trust quickly before you get back here. We can't stop the others from trying to manipulate new recruits, but we can make ourselves look like the stronger people, and hopefully they'll choose to side with us. I just don't know what kind of tactics they're using against us."

"You'll never know that," Michonne said. "That's why we need to cut the head off the snake first, and then take down the smaller threats."

"We'll all be on the lookout, Rick," Carol said convincingly with a smile.

Rick finished up by talking to Abraham, who was in charge of construction projects. He had the most people under his leadership, and probably the largest concentration of these rebels working for him. It seemed like a good place to start to try and find out who they were going to with information, though it wouldn't be easy.

The meeting was over in a timely fashion, and everyone was heading out to start their day. Carol caught hold of Daryl and pulled him to the side. "You're still coming over tonight, right?"

"Doesn't this meeting count?" he jested.

She scowled at him with her eyes. "You promised."

"I know, yeah, I'll be there." He was actually hoping to spend another evening with Aaron, but maybe that would look kind of suspicious. They better pace themselves, he thought. Carol would be a good distraction.

Daryl stopped Rick before he left. "Hey, I was wondering if you could get a hold of a crossbow. It's for Caleb. Thought I'd teach him to use one. Poor kid, no one has actually taught him any kind of good self-defense. He needs to learn a weapon."

"Yeah, I'll keep my eyes out," Rick said.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky, and a blinding orange with no clouds to block it out. Daryl was getting ready to head to Carol's house. He was on his way to see his source for some moonshine, and came upon Aaron. Aaron invited him to come over, but Daryl had to refuse. "I promised to hang with Carol tonight."

"Oh, that's ok. You two need some time with each other."

Daryl watched him a moment. "You sure you're ok?"

"Of course. Hey, I'm not like some people. I know you have a life and friends that were there long before we met. And I like Carol. She's like a police dog, sweet and loving to the people she knows, but vicious to strangers, especially ones who she deems as a threat."

Daryl gave a laugh. "You've got her pegged. That's Carol." He turned to leave, but stopped. "We'll get together soon, though. Right?"

"Tomorrow too soon?" Aaron offered.

"Not soon enough," Daryl said, putting his sunglasses on as he walked away, the slight trace of a smile forming on his lips. But as he walked past this one house, he noticed a man eyeing him from his chair. Was his innocently watching people pass by, or was he deliberately watching Daryl, one of the others? He'd have to be more careful, especially when he was with Aaron. He decided that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to get the moonshine, and instead went directly to Carol's home.

She was outside on her porch, watering her petunias. Daryl still had a hard time seeing her like this, and wondered if this was what she was like before. He could imagine it. Carol, weeding the garden, fertilizing the flowers, hanging laundry out to dry, cooking, cleaning and all that. Maybe this was her … before … but the world changed her. She wasn't that person now, and she never would be. This was all just for show. He gave her a smile when he came up the steps, and stopped to watch her finish watering the flowers. He looked like he was about to make some smart ass remark.

"Oh, shut up," she said, beating him to it. "I'm only doing this for looks. I hate gardening. Always have." She set the watering can down and Daryl followed her into the house. He was actually glad to hear her say this. He didn't really know why, except that could identify better with the Carol he knew well, the one with a gun and a brass knuckle bowie in her belt, wearing army boots and cargo pants. That Carol wouldn't give two shits about flowers. Perhaps this was who she was always meant to be. It was amazing how freeing an apocalypse could be, he said to himself, laughing internally.

"You come here empty handed?" she teased.

"I was afraid I was being watched," he told her.

"By who?" she asked, her tone turning more serious.

"I don't know, a couple streets over, just some guy sitting on his porch. I couldn't be sure though. Felt like he was giving me the stink eye."

"Yeah, I get a lot of that lately. I just smile sweetly and offer to make them a pound cake." She rolled her eyes. "It gets exhausting, you know? Playing this stupid game with everyone, I'm hardly ever myself anymore. I'd rather be out there sometimes. Out there, I'm not fake."

"I know exactly what you mean," Daryl commented, although, being with Aaron gave him the same comfort, minus the walkers.

As though she read his secret thoughts, Carol smiled slyly as she invited him to sit at the kitchen table. "So, how is Aaron?"

"Oh Christ, you're not gonna start that kind of shit, are you?" he complained. It made her laugh genuinely and warmed his heart upon hearing it.

"Hey, you promised me the whole glass slipper and pumpkin carriage story, remember?" she jested. "So how … when did you . . ." she stumbled on her words. "I'm sorry. I just never imagined that you … you know."

"Took me a long time to come to terms with it too. I wasn't exactly raised in a place that welcomed people like me. I guess I pretended for so long that I stayed in a permanent state of denial."

"Actually, I thought that maybe you and Beth–"

Daryl interrupted. "First of all, she was too young for me, even if I was interested, which I wasn't, obviously. And second, she was a good friend, someone to confide in."

"You told Beth?" Carol asked surprised.

"She figured me out first," Daryl said on the defense. "She just … knew, and I couldn't lie to her. Actually, I think it was her young age that made me trust her. She understood, like it was natural to her. Before all this happened, kids her age were accepting of people like me in a way that older people weren't. I don't know. Whatever it was, I was comfortable talking to her about it," Daryl confessed.

Carol made them some coffee. It was good to have coffee again. They didn't have those luxuries out on the road. During one of their many talks, they talked about coffee, and she remembered that they both took theirs strong and black. She set a mug in front of him and sat in the seat opposite.

"I just want you to know that I don't have a problem with it, and I don't mean to tease you either. It's just … I care about you, and if anyone deserves a little happiness, it's you. And I really do like Aaron. I don't know, even when we first met him, back in that abandoned barn, I just got a good vibe from him. I know Rick didn't trust him–"

"That's putting it lightly," Daryl interjected.

Carol shrugged and nodded in agreement. "I think he does now, though. Aaron's proved his loyalty. And the fact that you like him … well … Rick trusts your judgement of character. Its' something he lacks, but you can't blame him after everything he's been through."

"Yeah, well, we've all been through a lot, and we all deserve a little peace at times. Speaking of which, how are we going to deal with these townspeople?" He was trying desperately to change the subject.

Carol wasn't easily fooled. "I see what you're doing here. So, no details?"

"Hell no."

"Not even a little? Did you two … you know . . ." She wiggled her eyebrows up and down while biting her lower lip and smiling.

"Fuck you," he said, but he said it in a bashful manner as he was trying not to smile.

Carol ignored his outburst. Instead, she took another sip of her coffee, held the cup in her hands, and peeked at him over the edge. She already had her answer. "Wow, so this is pretty serious then." Daryl just stared at her, tight lipped and silent. "Alright, I'll shut up. It's just exciting, you know, to think something good is coming out of all this."

"Yeah, I guess it is," he admitted. "Now, that's enough. No more talk about it, ok?"

His left hand was resting on the table. Carol put her cup down, reached across, laid both of her hands on his, and smiled warmly. "Ok," she agreed.

To break up the private moment, Daryl cleared his throat. Carol released him and he sat back, the moment faded away. "As I was saying, what are we going to do?" he started, and the conversation went his way for the rest of the visit.

* * *

Daryl never got together with Aaron like they talked about. They were supposed to meet for dinner at Aaron's house, but their time together got delayed. Some scuffles were breaking out with certain townspeople and some of Daryl's people. Too many sets of eyes were on them, and they agreed that it was better if they laid low for a while. Although Aaron was working with Daryl's group, he wanted to remain seemingly neutral on the subject, at least until they could figure out who was the leader behind the others. What was only supposed to be a few days of separation turned into a few weeks.

And then everyone seemed to calm. The weather was turning slightly cooler. Maybe that had something to do with it. People were more uptight when it was stifling hot. With the cool down, more people got together at each other's houses, sitting on their porches and talking, laughing or having the occasional bar-b-que. Aaron decided to take advantage of the slow down, and invited Daryl over. Just in case someone was keeping tabs on them, he told Daryl to bring Carol along too. She was happy to come over. The three of them got along extremely well. She was still the only one who really knew what was going on between Daryl and Aaron, and her tight lips kept it that way.

Since Daryl couldn't spend much time with Aaron lately, he had been spending a lot of it with Carol. As a matter of fact, some townspeople started to suspect that something romantic was blossoming between the best friends. They thought it was better not to say anything and let the public continue to draw their own conclusions. It was a good front anyways.

The night was getting late, and during a break in conversation, Carol took the opportunity to say her farewells for the evening. "You think it's alright if I left now?"

"If you must," Aaron responded with a smile.

"I'd stay longer, but I think the two of you need some time to yourselves. It's a quiet night. Take advantage of it. If anyone asks, I'll tell them Daryl got a little too tipsy to walk home and passed out on your couch," she jested.

"Hey, why do I have to be the town lush?" Daryl laughed. "Besides, everyone knows a redneck can hold his liquor."

"Not after drinking that diesel fuel you call moonshine. That stuff would make the hair disappear on your chest and pop up on mine," she said, making the men laugh. "Alright, I'm out. Have a nice night gentlemen."

Daryl and Aaron sat on the porch a while longer, both men silent as they enjoyed the cool evening air. Then, Aaron's eyes turned to Daryl. "You want to go inside?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Daryl said, getting up from his chair. He opened the screen door, the hinges squeaking loudly. Aaron followed. From there, it didn't take them long to get reacquainted with each other, and they quickly made their way upstairs to Aaron's bedroom.

Early the next morning, before the sunrise, Daryl awoke on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, and a satisfied grin on his face. It felt good not to have to worry. Even within the protected walls of the town, Daryl still slept light, senses tuned in to everything around him like a defense barrier. But when Aaron was beside him, he slept soundly. Funny, he thought to himself, how the presence of one individual could change your whole sense of security.

Aaron was on his side, back to Daryl, still sleeping after their exertive evening. Just thinking about it made Daryl twitch to life, his body swelling with every memory of the sensations Aaron gave him last night. He turned towards Aaron, spooning up behind him, making slow gyrations until he got a response.

"Again? Already?" Aaron said with a groggy voice.

"Mmph," Daryl moaned behind Aaron's ear while pushing against his body with more force.

"You're like a machine," Aaron responded in a failed attempt of complaint.

"Just making up for lost time," Daryl said in that gravely seductive voice that sent chills of excitement running through Aaron's body.

Aaron rolled back, arms stretching up over his head as he yawned. "Ahhh, what time is it?"

"Who cares," Daryl said, capturing Aaron's mouth.

Aaron had no choice but to yield to the power of his insistent lover. He thought of how different Daryl was now, compared to when they first met. His confidence in himself was what made him an incredible lover. Aaron took pride in the fact that only he got to see Daryl this way. These were their private moments. No one else would know this Daryl, right here, right now, making love, consumed by desire.

Aaron reached back and felt along the side table until he grasped the small bottle, and then handed it to Daryl. Daryl felt a jolt of excitement and satisfaction in knowing he would get his way. "You're easy, you know that?" he jested.

"No," Aaron protested. "I'm just horny," he laughed. "Besides, nothing's better than morning sex."

"Except maybe night sex," Daryl suggested.

"Or 'against the wall' sex," Aaron answered.

"Lake sex," Daryl said, thinking back to their time at the cabin.

"Oh yeah, definitely lake sex," Aaron agreed as Daryl assumed position atop his partner. He kissed Aaron's neck for some quick foreplay, but they didn't really need any warm up time. They were both ready and willing.

"You think we'll ever get back there?" Aaron asked while Daryl seduced him with eager lips.

"I hope so," Daryl answered between kisses.

"Maybe next time, we'll just stay there. We'll disappear and never come back to Alexandria," Aaron dreamed.

Daryl stopped what he was doing and looked into Aaron's eyes. "Don't you like it here?"

"I do, but I like having our freedom even better," Aaron answered. "Here, we have to be careful of what we say and do. You know, life was getting to a point where we didn't have to hide. We could be ourselves and not care what anyone thought. Now, it feels like we've fallen back years, like we've stepped back in time."

Daryl abandoned his previous attempts at seducing his lover, and laid his head on Aaron's chest. "It's because of me. I'm the one holding us back."

Aaron lifted Daryl's chin so he could look at him. "Hey, it's not your fault. I understand why we have to be careful. I just miss the old days, that's all."

"That's just it, though. Life has changed so drastically, none of us can go back to the way we were."

Aaron ran his fingers through Daryl's hair. "I don't want you going back to who you were."

"Me neither. So I guess something good has come out of this craziness." Daryl took up his previous position, moving Aaron along with him. He looked down at Aaron, laying beneath him, longing filling his eyes. "It might have taken an apocalypse for me to accept myself, but one thing's for sure. There's no one I'd rather be with. I'll take the good and the bad. I don't care what gets thrown in my path, as long as I know you're with me."

"I'm not going anywhere," Aaron smiled, as Daryl moved forward and set his rhythm.

* * *

Daryl fell to the side, panting, a light sheen of perspiration glistening on his body. He threw his hands over his head and laid naked on top of the sheets. Aaron rolled towards him, draping a leg over Daryl's, an arm laying across his belly, and his head resting on Daryl's chest. Aaron was smiling as he tried to regulate his rapid breathing. He huffed a laugh between breaths.

"Hard to believe you haven't been doing this for very long," Aaron said.

"I've got a good teacher," Daryl responded.

"You're a quick learner," Aaron said back to him.

Daryl laughed. "Yeah, well, that may be true."

They laid next to each other for a while, silently enjoying this time together, the feel of their skin touching, the sound of their breathing, the scent of masculinity wafting in the air. The sun had come up. Birds were chirping their good morning song to each other. There weren't as many, Daryl noticed. Fall was just around the corner, and the summer residents had already headed south. The leaves on the trees were losing their luster. Soon they would turn to bright reds, yellows and oranges, a beautiful display of colors splashed across the land. And laying here, thinking of it all, enjoying a private moment with his lover, Daryl could see why the residents of Alexandria could so easily forget about what was going on outside the walls. This was how you got weak. This was how you let your guard down. As soon as you got comfortable, everything would turn to shit. No matter how much he wished he could stay like this, he knew what was out there, and it would never stop looking for a way in.

Suddenly, the closed off feeling of the town started to make Daryl feel trapped. His mind conjured up a horrific scene of walkers surrounding the walls, trying to climb up, pushing on the gates until the force of the herd's weight broke the doors from their hinges, and like a tidal wave after an earthquake, they would flood the town, consuming everything in their wake.

Daryl sat up unexpectedly, throwing Aaron off of him. He didn't mean to interrupt their peaceful morning, but he couldn't help it. He was in a panic on the inside.

"You ok?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah, it's just getting late. Probably should get the day started," Daryl said in a calm voice, but internally, his nerves were jolting with invisible electrical shocks. He leaned down and kissed Aaron, trying to keep up appearances, smiling while they were still close so as to hide his anxiety. Then he stood from the bed and started rounding up his clothes, which were strewn about the bedroom.

Aaron took in the sight of Daryl's naked form as he gathered his clothes. His body was gorgeous from ass to abs, but it was Daryl's toned arms that was his favorite part. Arms always had been his weakness, the way the muscles pulled and flexed, knowing there was strength hidden beneath the bronzed skin whether he was crushing roamers or crushing Aaron against his body as they made love. He couldn't help it. Arms were the sexiest thing on a man's body, in his own opinion.

"What's on your agenda for today?" Aaron asked. He watched Daryl step into his underwear, and then into his pants, leaving his torso exposed a while longer. Unable to help himself, Aaron got out of bed too, and went to Daryl.

"I promised Caleb I'd work with him again today."

Aaron picked up Daryl's shirt, but he kept it away from him as he reached for it, playfully teasing. "How's he coming along?"

"Kid's got an eye. Shoots straight. I think today we're going hunting. He needs live moving targets to hit, not beer cans and bulls eyes. It's time to move to the next level." As Daryl spoke, he reached for his shirt again, but Aaron pulled it away. It turned into a game between the two of them. Aaron was quick, but Daryl was quicker. He snagged the shirt, yanking it from Aaron's hands, and then in the same move, captured Aaron around the waist with it, pulling the man into him. Aaron was still naked, and Daryl glanced down and back up, noticing he was half hardened from their play.

"Just a little longer?" Aaron asked, hoping Daryl wouldn't leave yet. He pushed his body against Daryl to entice him. Their naked chests crushed together as they kissed again.

Daryl moaned, feeling himself come to life once more. He was always surprised at how quickly he was ready. However, the day was getting on, and the town would be abuzz with residents soon. Daryl wanted to sneak out before there were too many people to see him leave Aaron's house. But Aaron pushed against him again, and Daryl felt the solidness of the man's fully erect cock against his own, hidden within his pants. Unable to help himself, Daryl slowly got to his knees and gave Aaron what he was begging for.

Aaron threw his head back as Daryl swallowed him. His hands went into Daryl's hair, fingers wrapping around the back of his head, holding him in place. Lips slid along his shaft, tongue caressing the underside where the sensitive nerves made him pulse and jump. He slid in and out of Daryl's mouth, sometimes the tip of his tongue teasing around the rim. Daryl's hands clasped onto Aaron's ass, squeezing, kneading, spreading him. Aaron braced himself with his hands on Daryl's shoulders. His balls tightened. His ass clenched as he thrust forward. Daryl engulfed him and held him deep as Aaron spilled.

"Fuck me," Aaron said in a long breathy moan as he came.

Daryl got back on his feet. He reached for a half glass of whiskey left over from the night before and downed it. Then he grabbed Aaron in his arms, pulled him against his body and kissed him roughly, possessively, as if to say, 'You are mine and no one else's.'

The mixture of whiskey and his own essence was unusual, but somehow sensual. Aaron didn't mind. He liked it when Daryl took control, and right now, the kiss was making him weak in the knees. Or it could have been the fact that Daryl just gave him the best blowjob he'd ever had. He really wished they didn't have to do anything today. To spend the entire day in bed would be utopia, but there was no such thing, even in the arms of his lover.

"I gotta go," Daryl whispered with regret.

"I know," Aaron answered disappointedly.

"But I'm going to get you alone again … soon," Daryl promised.

"You better or I'll hunt you down. Tie you up and hide you away from everyone," Aaron told him.

Daryl allowed a half smile to curl the corner of his mouth. "I like the sound of that." Daryl slipped his shirt on and adjusted it. Then he turned to leave.

"Daryl," Aaron called out. He had a sudden urge to make his true feelings known. He'd been thinking about it for a while now. He knew how he felt about Daryl, and it wasn't just some passing fancy. His heart beat a thousand times a minute whenever he saw the man. Hell, he just heard Daryl's name and the excitement that coursed through his veins was almost uncontrollable. "I … I uh–" he stammered. Should he tell him? Should he say those three words that could never be unsaid once it was out there? God, he wanted to, but he was afraid Daryl wouldn't reply the way he hoped he would. Aaron had pushed Daryl in the past, and it usually never turned out very well.

"Yeah?" Daryl said, waiting to hear what Aaron had to say.

"I … uh … I-I … let's not allow so much time to pass like before, ok? I … I can't stand being away from you for that long of a time." Damn it, Aaron berated himself.

"It won't be as long. I promise," Daryl reassured him. He gazed upon him a moment longer, taking in the sight of Aaron's lean body. Then he smiled slyly. "You better put some clothes on, or so help me, I just might come right back in."

"You're not giving me much incentive to dress," Aaron said.

Daryl bit his lip to keep himself from going back to Aaron. There wasn't any time left. He had to go. Daryl went to the door, paused before opening it, glanced quickly back to Aaron, shook his head, and slipped out the door.

Aaron stared at the closed door another moment. The thought of Daryl finding it hard to leave excited him. "God, I love that man," he said to himself. "Now, if I could only find the courage to tell him that."

* * *

As he promised, Daryl started working with Caleb, teaching him how to use a crossbow. Rick managed to find one and saved it for the kid. Since Daryl was still suspended from checking weapons out, Rick did it for him, bringing both Daryl's and Caleb's bows to the gate. They were given their weapons as they left, and upon returning, they were collected by whoever was on duty. Daryl found the whole punishment preposterous, but he played by their rules and didn't make a scene. Once outside the walls, though, Daryl was a free man, and that's when could let go. He hated the façade he had to display, pretending to be sorry for what he'd done, and acting like he learned his lesson. The truth was, these people were weak. Sure, they had rules within the town, and that was a necessary part of living together in harmony, but they had nothing in place for what was outside the walls or for what might come inside. Daryl was explaining this to Caleb as they were waiting for their weapons at the gate.

"If this place was invaded today, all hell would break loose, and most of these people wouldn't know what to do," Daryl told him.

"But that's the thing about Alexandria. It's well protected. Nothing can get in through these walls of steel," Caleb said.

"Kid, if you believe that, then you're just as naïve as the rest of them," Daryl countered. "If someone wants in, they'll find a way in … living or dead. You can't let yourself believe that you are ever completely safe. That's when things go wrong. Why do you think I'm out here teaching you how to fight? You need to be ready because there ain't no where really safe in this world anymore."

This made Caleb think, and Daryl saw the light go on in his eyes. Now he understood what Daryl was talking about. "How do you think they can get in?"

"Well, the gate is the weak point. And I know what you're thinking. There's guards on patrol round the clock. Human error is usually the first reason for a breach. The guys might be talking, thinking it's quiet, and miss seeing someone sneak in beyond their level of sight. Or maybe the gate doesn't get locked. And then there's the wall. It's in pretty good condition, but with people constantly working on it, there's always room for a mistake, not enough bolts holding the sections together, support beams not secured well, all kinds of things. Those are just a couple scenarios, but there's other ways, ones we haven't even thought of. Chances are we'll see or hear something before it's too late, but there's still a small percentage of weakness, and that's all it takes. That's why you have to be prepared for anything to happen."

Carol showed with a pair of crossbows and gave them to Daryl and Caleb with a smile on her face. "Now, you boys be careful out there," she said.

Caleb nodded. "We will, Miss Carol," he said like the well raised kid he was.

"Just Carol next time," she corrected him.

"Yes ma'am," Caleb said politely. This made Carol smile as she patted him on the shoulder. Then she looked at Daryl.

"Hey, you think you can bring back a couple rabbits? I got a recipe from one of the women I cook for. Says she hasn't had a decent stew in a long time," Carol asked.

"I'll see what I can do," Daryl told her as he hoisted his bow onto his back.

Carol regarded Caleb again. She'd taken a liking to the boy, and was glad he was doing well since coming to Alexandria. She knew his story, and wanted to help him as much as possible as he adjusted to his new adopted family. "Daryl's a good teacher. Taught me a thing or two that's saved me more than once. He's an excellent survivalist. Pay close attention to him."

"Yes ma'am … I mean Carol," Caleb corrected himself.

"Come on, Caleb," Daryl called. "Let's go get Miss Carol her rabbits." He gave her a comical exaggerated wink as she glared at him.

Daryl and Caleb headed out into the woods, navigating away from the city to a place where Daryl was sure they'd find some game. Luckily, they were not left wanting, and Daryl started his lessons for the day. His first few tries, Caleb missed his targets.

"It's a lot harder when the thing you're shooting at is moving," Caleb said out of frustration.

"You do it often enough, and you'll start being able to read the animals. You gotta get them when they're still and listening to their surroundings, before they make up their mind to run," Daryl said.

"It's kind of a guessing game," Caleb observed.

"In a way, yeah. Not with walkers, though. They'll always move towards you. They're not difficult to shoot, it's just shooting him in the right place. And if you don't have a clear headshot, then get them where you can immobilize them until you can stick a knife through their skull. Chances are, when you come across walkers, you'll be with someone. You're protecting each other, so if you see a walker near your buddy, you do everything in your power to stop that son of a bitch."

"How many have you killed?" Caleb asked.

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know, thousands I would guess, or close to it. I've shot more of them than I have rabbits."

"Then how come we're not shooting walkers instead of rabbits?"

"Good point," Daryl responded. "So you think you're ready? You haven't even shot your first animal yet."

"It's not animals that might get through the walls," Caleb said.

"You're pretty smart, kid. Ok, let's find us some walkers then. I know a place where they wander around occasionally." Daryl led Caleb deeper into the woods, thinking about what Caleb said. He was right. He needed to practice on the actual threat. He needed to know what it was like to come face to face with them, how to kill them, how to keep from being bitten. He needed to know how to get out of a tight situation, when to use his knife versus his bow.

Daryl found the walkers wandering the woods, and prepped Caleb for what to do. They started out easy, shooting them from a distance. Caleb had a good eye. Once he got used to finding his target quickly, determining whether it was human, animal or walking dead, he got faster. After a few tries, he was hitting every one in the head.

"You got a natural talent for the crossbow," Daryl pointed out when they were done for the day. They had run out of targets, and were on their way back to town when they decided to sit for a minute. Neither one was ready to go back inside the city just yet.

"It's not too hard," Caleb admitted. He looked down at his hands and spoke quietly. "I just pretend that it's Reg … and I never miss."

Daryl sighed deep with regret that he couldn't have gotten to Caleb before all those terrible things happened to him. At least they made it out of there alive. "It's gonna take a while, kid, but it won't always be this difficult."

"Did it take you a long time to forget?" Caleb asked.

"I'm going to be honest with you. You never forget, unfortunately, but you remember less and less as time goes by. Having someone who understands your pain can be really helpful though." Daryl wouldn't be anything less than honest with Caleb. The boy needed to know these things.

"I guess Aaron helps you then, since he knows," Caleb pointed out.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, not quite sure why he brought up Aaron. Caleb knew they were friends, however. To break up the private moment, Daryl reached into his pack and retrieved two bottles of water, handing one to Caleb. Daryl unscrewed the cap and drank deep, but Caleb played with his first. Daryl had a feeling the boy wasn't through with their conversation yet.

"Daryl?" Caleb said quietly after a while. "Do you … u-uh … do you think I'll be like you someday?"

Become like him? Daryl wondered what exactly he meant by that, and he thought he was talking about his hunting skills. "You mean a hunter and a tracker? Yeah, if you keep–"

"No," Caleb interrupted. "Will I become like you? You know … like you and … and Aaron?"

"What exactly are you referring to?" Did he mean their friendship? Their partnership as recruiters?

Caleb slowly shook his head back and forth. "I mean, um, well, like you're together. Like _together_ , together." Caleb was frustrated that he couldn't find the right words, and finally came out with it. "Will I want to be with a man?"

Daryl was completely thrown off by the question, and by the fact that Caleb knew about him and Aaron. "Who did you … what … how do you know about Aaron and me?" He wouldn't deny it. There was no point now that Caleb figured them out.

Caleb wouldn't look at Daryl, and continued to keep his eyes turned down to the ground beneath his feet. They were sitting on a fallen tree for the moment. Caleb shrugged his shoulders, and threw one leg across the tree so he was straddling it with his back to Daryl. "You'd have to be blind not to notice."

Daryl couldn't believe Caleb knew. There's another one that figured it out, Daryl scolded himself silently. "How did you–" Daryl started to ask slowly, but Caleb interrupted him.

"I didn't mean that everyone in town would notice. I mean, back when we were at that house, after you found me in Reg's camp, that's when I figured it out. You'd share a look or a touch that seemed like it was more than friendship. I don't know, I could just … tell … that's all."

It had been a very emotional time, Daryl thought, and although he and Aaron hadn't admitted their feelings for each other yet, the chemistry was there. With everything that had happened, he guessed they hadn't tried all that hard to cover their secrets. And Caleb had been in distress. Daryl figured he wouldn't have noticed much in his condition. Time to fess up to the boy.

Daryl slowly nodded and picked up a stick from the ground, moving dried leaves around on the forest floor. "Well, you're right about Aaron and me, and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it to yourself."

"Yeah, man, sure. I mean, I'd never–" Caleb stammered nervously, making Daryl cautious.

"So what's this all about? You coming out to me or something?" Daryl asked bluntly.

"No," Caleb said on the defense. Then his tone softened. "I had a couple girlfriends before the outbreak, and it's not like I ever looked at a dude and got … excited or nothing," Caleb admitted.

"Then why are you asking me this? What, did your folks tell you it was catching or something?" Daryl asked. It wouldn't be the first time he'd heard that. His brother used to make fun of gays in that way.

"No, it's not that. I'm just kind of confused. Alison said that some boys, after being raped, discover things about themselves, and I know it happened to you, and just thought that maybe that's why you and Aaron … you know." Caleb came out with it quickly, seeming embarrassed to talk about it.

Daryl was absolutely flabbergasted, and wasn't sure what to say at first. He felt like going on a rant, but kept his attention focused. Caleb was seriously asking for his advice, but Daryl needed to set the record straight. "First off, I've always known about my sexuality, though I hid in denial for many years, and that's another story for another time. Being raped did not _turn me gay_ if that's what you think. It doesn't work that way. Second, remind me who Alison is, and why the hell did she put these crazy thoughts into your head? It's ludicrous, and she obviously has no clue what she's talking about."

"Alison is my therapist, remember? The town psychiatrist? She lives next to Deanna? You saw me coming out of her house a while back," Caleb said.

"A shrink told you this?" Daryl said with disgust.

"Well, yeah, and that's why I thought that–"

"She's wrong. Listen, if you're gay it's because you were born that way, not because you rubbed up against someone, not because you were raped, and definitely not because some quack of a shrink says so. Got it?" Daryl said with ire. "What the hell else did she tell you?"

"Nothing really. We spend most of our time discussing ways for me to deal with what happened."

Daryl thought for a moment. Maybe this Alison chick was just informing Caleb of what might possibly happen to him, in case he wasn't straight, but it seemed pretty clear that he was. Something seemed off, though. It might be worth looking into. He'd talk to Aaron about it. Aaron probably knew something about Alison since he'd lived in the town for a while.

"You look troubled," Caleb noticed. "Should I stop going to Alison?"

"No, I think you should continue your sessions, just don't believe what she says about that one thing. I'm going to look into her, find out something about her background. Just play it cool with her."

"I can do that," Caleb said, glad to help Daryl in any way he could.

Daryl had a feeling he was about to recruit himself for a therapy session.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 Therapy Session**

Daryl and Caleb returned from hunting, and turned in their weapons until next time. Caleb was proud of himself and his accomplishments with his shooting. Daryl was proud of him too, but he had other things on his mind at the moment. When Caleb asked if they could hang out for a while, Daryl apologized and said he needed to be somewhere. Caleb understood and went off to find his friends. Daryl headed for Aaron's house, to discuss his findings about this town psychiatrist, Alison, who Caleb, as well as many other residents visited. On his way there, he came upon Aaron standing outside of Carol's house, both of them on their knees, weeding the landscaping in front of her porch. Aaron looked up and saw Daryl approaching, stood, dusted garden dirt from his hands and smiled.

"Daryl," he said joyfully, and touched Daryl's arm lovingly.

"Hi Honey, you're home," Carol called out lightly, teasing him.

"Hey," Daryl replied without returning a smile. He looked serious, and Carol and Aaron instantly knew something was wrong. Aaron released him, brows furrowing with concern. Carol tilted her head to the side and shared a disquieted look with Aaron.

"What's going on?" Carol asked.

"What do you know about Alison, the town shrink?" Daryl asked both of them.

Carol shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I don't know much. I haven't really spoken with her. She runs in different circles than me."

Daryl turned his attention to Aaron and waited for him to answer. "I don't have any qualms with her. Never needed her services. Haven't heard any complaints about her. She goes to all the town gatherings, doesn't make a scene, hasn't been a problem before. Why?"

"I don't know. Something seems off. I was out hunting with Caleb, and we started talking. He asked me if–" Daryl stopped and looked around to make sure no one else was around. "He wanted to know if he was going to turn gay."

"I don't understand," Aaron said.

"He wanted to know if he was going to become a homosexual because he'd been raped," Daryl said quietly, as though the bushes had ears.

"What the hell is that all about," Carol wondered aloud.

"That's what I said," Daryl continued. "He said Alison told him that some boys, after going through what he's been through, turn gay."

Aaron couldn't help but give a nervous laugh. "Turn gay? Nobody turns gay. Are you sure it was Alison who told him this?"

"She discussed it with him during one of their sessions." Daryl paused and checked his surroundings again. "Where did this woman come from, and how do we know she's actually a shrink?"

"Well, she was here when I arrived. I'm not sure if she's been here since the beginning, though. As far as her credentials, I'm just going by what I've been told. I never had any reason to doubt her. Quite a few people go to her for help, and no one has complained."

"Back when I was trying to get help for myself," Carol informed. "Before the outbreak, I went to a psychiatrist to talk about my situation with my husband." Daryl knew about her past, but she'd never mentioned it to Aaron. She glanced at him now with bashful eyes. "My husband was abusive towards me. It was a different time and I was a different person back then." She turned back to Daryl. "I have an idea of what psyches are like, and I'm pretty sure they'd never tell one of their patients what she told Caleb. It's preposterous to even think such a thing."

"I don't know," Daryl said. "I smell a rat."

"You know, she has access to all kinds of people. Some of them she knows their life stories. That's a lot of information to store up," Aaron mentioned.

"Maybe one of us needs to … discuss our problems," Carol suggested. "I'll make an appointment with her if you want."

"I'll do it," Daryl volunteered. "I've probably got the most baggage between the three of us. Shouldn't be difficult to convince her that I need help."

"I don't like it," Aaron said with concern.

Carol smiled at Aaron and wrapped her arm around his waist. "I know you don't, hon, but we need to get up close and personal with her, and find out whose side she's on. Alison has access to every person that's spoken with her. If she's not legitimate and she's working with the others, then we need to know about it."

"You mean like recruiting, but within the town?" Aaron asked.

"It might help explain the hostility some people have towards our group," Carol said.

"I think I'm gonna set up that appointment as soon as possible. I'm feeling a bit depressed," Daryl said, faking exasperation.

Aaron seemed reluctant, but he eventually agreed. "Just be careful what you tell her," he said to Daryl. "People like Alison have ways of making you open up and discuss things you normally wouldn't tell another living soul."

* * *

Daryl made his way to Alison's house. He climbed the steps slowly, and thought of what he would talk to her about. The most logical thing would be his inability to adjust to life in Alexandria. Everyone knew Daryl liked to separate himself from everyone else. Maybe he could even use his most recent crime of breaking into the weapons room. Feeling confident that he had a good story, he rang the doorbell and waited. He could see a figure approaching, distorted through the oval shaped frosted glass pattern in the door. It opened to reveal a woman, maybe early forties, about Daryl's age. She had long, red, wavy hair that parted on the side and framed her face quite becomingly. There was the lightest dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, which added a youthful look to her face. She smiled and it touched her green eyes, making Daryl feel very welcome.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asked politely. She had a sultry voice, like a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it.

Daryl looked back towards the street, and then glanced at Deanna's house next door before speaking. "I was … advised to come by and speak with you." He paused and looked back at Deanna's house. "Call it part of my punishment." "You're the town shrink. Right?" he muttered.

"I prefer psychiatrist, but call it what you like," she corrected him. "You're Daryl, aren't you? You came in with the new group."

"Yes ma'am," he answered with his gravelly southern drawl.

"I heard about the break in." She studied him a moment, and he started to feel uncomfortable. Alison must have noticed, because she smiled again and moved to the side. "Please, come in."

"You want to do this now?" Daryl asked nervously.

"Better now than never, unless you have somewhere you need to be."

"I thought I needed an appointment or something."

Alison held the door wider, making it impossible for Daryl to refuse entry. "You have good timing, Mr. Dixon. I've got the entire day to myself."

"I'm surprised you know my name already," he pointed out, as he stepped inside.

"A lot of people know your name, as well as the names of the rest of your group. You all have made quite the impression around here. Actually, I was hoping one of you would come by to speak with me. I understand your group was out there for a very long time."

"We were all out there since the beginning," Daryl said, taking in the sight of Alison's home. It looked much the same as the rest of the houses on this block. Her home was simply decorated, white walls, beige furniture, a splash of turquoise here and there. Whether it was her taste or not, Daryl didn't know. This was probably decorated by its previous owner before the outbreak. But she had kept it the same none the less.

"You must have seen some horrible things in all that time," Alison said, bringing his attention back to her.

"Horrible is an understatement, but yeah, not a lot of good out there. What about you? Were you ever out there?" he asked, turning the talk towards her.

"I lived in a community across the river. I made due there until someone came by and told me about Alexandria."

Daryl got up close to Alison, watching her through the slits of his eyes. He wanted to seem threatening, not only to get some information from her, but to keep her from trying to figure him out. "How many walkers have you killed?" he asked.

"Walkers?" she responded.

"Yeah, walkers, roamers, shufflers, whatever you want to call them."

"Oh, uh …. I don't know, a couple I guess."

Daryl didn't like her answer, but he wasn't surprised. Alison didn't come off as having been out there for very long.

"How many people you kill?" Daryl continued.

She seemed disgusted by his question. "No one," she demanded, as though he should have already known.

"Why?" Daryl said, finishing the interrogation.

"Why?" she asked, confused. "Because it's wrong." She paused and looked Daryl in the eyes, giving him the answer he was looking for. "Because I haven't had to."

At least now Daryl knew she'd never really been out there. Alison had probably come to Alexandria not long after all hell broke loose. She might have seen a few things along the way, but it was nothing compared to what many other people had to experience in order to survive.

"Now that you're done with your line of questions, mind if I ask a few?" she said.

"That's what I'm here for," Daryl said condescendingly.

"Have a seat, and we'll get started." She invited him the rest of the way into her home and showed him to the living room. He noticed how she was dressed, denim shorts and a red tank top. She'd been telling the truth that she didn't have any patients today. At least that was something to go by. Alison probably did her best to tell the truth to everyone, or some variation of it. He didn't trust her simply for the fact that she liked to get into people's heads and have a look around.

"I've got iced tea if you'd like some," she offered.

"Got anything stronger?" Daryl asked, more of a joke than serious, but he could see her judging eyes flick over him.

"I'm afraid I don't keep alcohol in my house. I don't touch the stuff."

"Maybe you should once in a while," he mumbled under his breath.

Alison abandoned the thought of tea, and had a seat in a chair across from where Daryl sat. She elegantly crossed her legs, and long slim legs they were, and placed her hands in her lap. "I have to say, Mr. Dixon, you come off as very threatening. We've never even met, and you already exhibit such animosity towards me."

"Nothing personal, Doc. I just don't like people."

"You like the people in your group, don't you?"

"They're more than people to me. They're family."

"Hmm," she said as though evaluating him already, which she probably was. "Tell me, do you have any family, besides your adopted one?"

Daryl didn't like where this was heading, but he had no choice at the moment. He'd hoped that he could steer the session in his own direction. "I had family. They're all gone now."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Alison said, displaying true regret. Daryl wasn't buying it. "That is a common story for many people. I don't think there is anyone out there who has not lost a loved one due to this plague."

"You've lost someone too?" Daryl asked.

"I did. My daughter was one of the first casualties in my town. She was a nurse at one of the big hospitals, about thirty minutes from where we lived. She was helping those coming in with the original sickness. She had an unruly patient who bit her arm, nothing serious at the time. Later, she developed a fever. At the time, no one knew how it spread, and her treatment did nothing to fight the sickness. I was with her when the military came in and took control of the hospital. I was told I had to leave, since I displayed no symptoms, but I refused to leave my daughter alone. I stayed by her side until she died. And I was there when she … reanimated."

Daryl knew she had some kind of story, and it was just as devastating as the rest of them. "Did you have to put her down?" Daryl asked carefully.

"No, thank God, but an armed soldier came in the room right after she turned. He put a bullet through her head, and she never woke back up. Some DEA agents in white hazmat suits put her in a body bag and carried her out. The soldier told me they were burning all the dead, ordered me to go back to my home, and remain there until they had everything under control."

"Let me guess, nothing ever got under control," Daryl said.

She forced a smile, but there was a misting of tears threatening her eyes. "That's why I'm in Alexandria now." She adjusted her position in her chair and took back control of the session. Daryl prepared himself to be dissected. "Well, if you're ready, we shall begin. What has brought you here today, Mr. Dixon?"

"Like I said, it's part of my punishment, or corrective process as you might want to call it," Daryl told her.

"Let's go back a little, and tell me why you broke into the weapons room to begin with."

Feeling as though acting the part of a rebel would help his cause, Daryl stretched his legs out and put his feet on the coffee table, displaying well-worn and dirty biker boots. "I needed to get out."

"Get out of where, Alexandria?"

"Yeah," Daryl answered. "This place starts to close in on me every once in a while, and if I don't go outside the gates, I tend to get a little stir crazy."

"Couldn't you have waited until someone was at the room to let you check out your weapon?" Alison asked.

"Nope," he said with a definite pop of the 'p'. "It's like taking a piss. When you gotta go, you go."

"You could have taken a knife, or perhaps borrowed Michonne's sword."

It didn't surprise Daryl that she knew Michonne's name or that she carried a sword, so he didn't mention it. "I never leave without my crossbow."

Alison nodded in agreement. "Can't argue with you there. Alright then, let's go back even further. How did you meet the people in your group?"

"Let me stop you there. I didn't come here to talk about my group," Daryl said with agitation.

"Alright," she said, giving in instead of moving forward with her line of questions. She brought it back to Daryl. "Why are you here then, Mr. Dixon?"

Now was his time to set up his dilemma. "I've had a difficult time adjusting to city life again, and wanted to know if there was something that could help me?"

"And why are you having trouble? Don't you like having the protection this city provides?" Alison continued her questioning.

"No place in this world is completely safe anymore."

"And going outside the walls is?" she asked.

"I feel like I'm in control out there," Daryl answered honestly. "In here, I don't know, it feels like safety is just an illusion.

"Control you say? How are you in control out there?"

"I can predict walkers. They only got one thing on their minds. People, though, sometimes I never know what they're thinking." That was a true statement, at least towards some of the people in Alexandria.

"You have trust issues," she determined. "Understandable in current times, but something tells me those issues go back even further. I'm going out on a limb and guess you didn't have the happiest childhood. Am I right?"

"That's not hard to figure out. The redneck southern boy who doesn't get along with others," Daryl said.

Alison continued. "And I think it's safe to say it was your father, but I'm going to guess that's not the only family member who has wronged you."

She was starting to make some fairly dark and accurate presumptions. Daryl didn't like it one bit. He remembered what Aaron told him about being careful what you said to a shrink, and their ability to get you to talk. Daryl was on high alert with this woman, and he knew to steer clear of certain parts of his past. Yes, he was wronged by more than just his father, although she was incorrect about it being a family member. It had been a friend of the family, close enough. He would never divulge that part of his past with this stranger. Still, he needed to find out as much about her as possible, and he wasn't ready to end his session just yet. So he played into her prediction. "My dad was a drunk prick, but where he left off, my brother picked up."

"Your brother, yes, I see. And did he abuse you too?" she inquired.

"Not in a physical way like my dad did, but he never wasted a moment to tell me what a stupid ass I was." Again, Daryl was speaking the truth. Merle never went easy on him even up to the moment he died. "But I loved my brother, don't get me wrong. He was tough on me because he wanted to make sure I was strong enough to survive, and I don't mean the apocalypse," he stated in defense of his brother. "He taught me how to hunt and track, how to use a bow and shoot a gun. He was looking out for me."

"Usually looking out for a younger sibling means teaching him right from wrong, and how to be successful in society. I take it your brother wasn't one for society." Alison said.

"He had his share of problems, but so did I," Daryl said on the defense again.

"What kind of problems?"

"He got in trouble sometimes, and it landed him in juvie a lot. He did meth from time to time, but he was never one of those crackheads who spent all their time in an abandoned house laying on a dirty mattress. He'd go off on a bender for a few days and come back sober."

"So, like your father, he abandoned you for days at a time," she pointed out.

"Merle knew I could take care of myself," Daryl said harshly. "That's why he taught me how to survive."

"Did your father abuse Merle, too?" she asked.

"Yeah, he was into equal opportunity," Daryl said to be a smartass.

"And yet, your brother left you with a man who he knew would beat you just as he was beat. How is that considered taking care of you?" Alison said with anger.

Daryl took his feet off the table and planted them on the floor. He leaned forwards, elbows on his knees and sighed heavily. "Because Merle didn't know our dad was beating me too. He asked me once, after he'd been gone a while. He asked if Dad ever got rough. I lied and said no. I told him that he was always drunk and passed out, and that I had to find my own food, cook my own meals, clean my own clothes, that kind of shit. Merle said I should be doing that anyways. Then he made me swear to tell him if Dad ever hit me, and there was a look in my brother's eyes, like the devil himself was in there. That's when I knew that if I ever told Merle, he would kill our father. But I needed my brother, even if he wasn't always around, and if I ever told him the truth, I knew I'd never see him again because he'd be locked up for the rest of his life."

"And where is your brother now?" Alison asked to make a point.

"Dead," Daryl said in barely a whisper.

"You hid the truth so you wouldn't lose your brother, yet you lost him anyways. There are no guarantees are there? You spent your youth protecting someone who should have been protecting you. You still stand up for him, even now, but would he do the same for you if he was still here?" That's all she said on the subject, but her words left Daryl wondering about everything he'd ever known about his brother.

Alison stood up from her chair and made her way towards the front door, Daryl's signal that the session was finished. Daryl got up and followed her, though his head was reeling with doubts. She held her hand out for him to shake, and after a few unanswered seconds, Daryl took it. She covered both their hands with her free one and looked in his eyes. "I'm very glad I got the chance to meet you, Mr. Dixon, and know that my door is always open. Oh, and as for adjusting to our town, just give it time. There's really nothing else I can advise you to do, except to make a few new friends … slowly and at your own pace. I think you'll find that we are a very accepting community, as long as you abide by the rules and don't make a threat. No more break-ins, Mr. Dixon." She said the last part with a smile, but he couldn't help but feel it was a warning.

Daryl left Alison's and went to Aaron's house instead of his own. His bike was there in the garage, and Daryl needed to work on it. Tinkering with his bike would put his mind at ease, and give him some time to think about what Alison said. When he got there, Aaron was gone, so he let himself in and went into the garage. The bike was in good running condition, and only needed a few slight adjustments here and there. As soon as he picked up a wrench, his mind went back to his session with Alison. He'd left her house with a strange feeling of confusion about his brother. He hadn't thought about Merle much lately. That chapter of his life was closed, and there was nothing to be done about it. But talking with Alison made him want to reexamine his relationship with his brother. He knew Merle wasn't the best example growing up, but he was sure that his brother loved him, even if it was in some abstract kind of way. After the outbreak, he and Merle were inseparable. They learned about walkers together, figured out how to kill them, how someone caught their disease and how to avoid it. They both knew they couldn't remain alone. There was safety in numbers, and soon they hooked up with the first group they came upon. Merle didn't make it easy for them, and Daryl found himself having to defend his brother constantly, even when he said things Daryl didn't agree with, but that's what they did. They watched out for each other. So why didn't Merle watch him when he was younger? Why did he say he would protect him, and then leave for days, weeks, even months? It was during one of those times when Daryl was raped. Why hadn't that occurred to him before? If Merle hadn't gone off and gotten himself thrown in the slammer, maybe Jay never would have attacked him. And then it hit him. He hadn't realized it, but he was turning to Jay to replace Merle while he was away. Did Jay know that's what he was doing? Here was the bigger question. Why did Daryl always feel the need to be protected? His father wasn't there to do it, so he turned to his brother, and when Merle wasn't there, he turned to Jay. Who was he turning to now? Aaron? Rick? Carol? Insecurity set in, and suddenly Daryl felt like nothing had changed. He was still hiding behind others to make sure he was safe. Maybe it was Alexandria itself that he was hiding behind this time.

Time passed quickly as Daryl immersed himself in the past. A couple hours flew by unnoticed by the time he was finished. He got on his bike and prepared to start it, and see how it was running. Instead, he just sat there in the quiet of the garage, and remembered what independence felt like. Riding his bike down the highway, out in the open air without anyone around to tell him what to do or where to go, that's when he knew he didn't need anyone else. That's when he could forget about it all. Maybe, he thought, he should take it out for a ride, clear his head.

"Hey, whatcha doing?" Aaron asked, catching Daryl off guard.

He jumped and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, I didn't hear you come in."

"How's the bike running?" Aaron asked, walking around Daryl sitting on his motorcycle.

"I don't know yet. Haven't started it up."

Aaron watched Daryl, who seemed to be avoiding him at the moment. "Did I interrupt something?" Aaron asked. "You seem like you were somewhere else."

"Naw, it's nothing," Daryl denied, but he remembered that it was Aaron he was talking to, and he could always tell when Daryl wasn't being transparent. "I saw Alison today. Something's not right. I can't tell if psychiatry is really her talent or if she's just playing the part. If she's a fraud, then she's good."

"It sounds like she might have opened up some of your old rusty doors," Aaron commented.

"It's nothing you don't already know about," Daryl said, feeling a bit guilty. "Just some details that I'd all but forgotten."

"Hey, remember what I told you about letting her get into your head," Aaron warned, grabbing Daryl's full attention.

"Yeah, I know. I was careful," Daryl responded. He watched Aaron from the corner of his eye, standing beside him, waiting for more information, but Daryl didn't have anything yet. Instead of saying anything, he slid back on the bike's seat and patted the front half in invitation. Aaron got on, straddling the bike's black leather seat so that he was facing Daryl. Daryl still wouldn't look at him, but he spoke. "What did you do before the outbreak?" he asked.

"I, uh, I was part of a NGO," Aaron said.

"What's that?"

"It stands for Non-Governmental Organization. I was part of a group of people who used to run food and supplies to residents of the Niger River Delta. There's always been a lot of political turmoil in that area, and the result was dirty water and neglected residents. It could get kind of hostile at times. I guess it was good practice for the way things are now. I learned how to shoot a gun because of it."

"I thought you were just some kid that like to go to clubs," Daryl mentioned, remembering one of their earliest conversations.

"Well, yeah, there was that. And my party days were kind of what led me to join a NGO. I wasn't doing anything with my life, just trying to run away from my problems and my family. Then I met a guy who told me about this group he joined that made trips to Africa to help the less fortunate. It made sense to me at the time. It was just volunteer work, but they would feed me and give me a place to sleep. It sounded good, because I didn't fit into normal society. I'm glad I did it, though. I learned a lot, and it's helped me survive."

"How'd you end up here then, in Alexandria?" Daryl wondered.

"I told you about my boyfriend, the airline steward, the one I found out was cheating on me. I was living with him at the time. He hadn't come home when he was supposed to, and I knew I had to leave. At the same time, reports were coming in about the sickness going around, and it was just starting to get bad by then. I contacted some friends I'd made through the organization I worked with in Africa. They lived in DC, and they were stateside. They told me DC was a safe place, said the military was taking extra precautions to protect it, so they invited me to come stay with them until the threat passed." Aaron paused to laugh at that statement. "I hooked up with a group of people going the same way I was. By the time I got to my friends, some had already died. It just spread so fast. The military started evacuating the city. It was complete chaos. People were dying and getting back up only to attack the healthy. I watched one of my friends get her throat ripped out by a guy in a business suit. I saw a group of dead corner a German Shepard and eat it while it was still alive. It was all so surreal during those first weeks. Anyways, my friends and I split DC with some strangers. We were heading south and came across this place. Deanna and her husband let us in, interviewed us, and asked us to stay. My friends refused. They wanted to continue on to find their families, and that was understandable. I didn't have any family, didn't have anywhere to go so I stayed."

Daryl listened to the story, but he was most impressed with Aaron's decision to join the NGO, to go so far from home just to help the less fortunate. It took someone very brave to step out of their comfort zone like that, and he mentioned this to Aaron. "You're choice to join that organization … that was a pretty noble career," Daryl pointed out.

"I don't know if you could call it a career," Aaron said shyly. "It was charity work. You know me, I like to help people."

Daryl considered this a moment. "While you were out there doing the work of angels, I was hitching a ride with the devil. My brother, Merle, and I took over the family business. Of course I told you all about that already." He stopped to chew on his thumb nail with nervous contemplation. "I could have done something more with my life. I should have, but I chose to follow along on my brother's coattails."

"I don't think you had much of a choice," Aaron mentioned.

"You can always choose to do something else, but I didn't. Merle, he was my big brother. He taught me everything I know. I looked up to him. I loved him."

"Sure you did," Aaron said understandingly.

"I acted like such a badass, but really, I was only mimicking him. I didn't know how else to behave. That was never really me, though. Still, I went along with every plan. I believed everything he told me. He treated me like shit sometimes, and still, I only wanted to be like him, to please him, make him proud. I remember going to the store with him once, and he saw a couple guys together, walking close, shoulder to shoulder, bumping into each other, laughing. It was obvious they were gay. And for a split second I wished that could be me. Then Merle approached them, called them fags, threatened them, scared the shit out of them. He pulled me in to the confrontation. I had no choice but to make the same threats. I hated it. Part of me wanted to be like those men, open and free. Part of me hated them for openly displaying their affection when I knew I couldn't. That's the thing, though. I always supported Merle, even when I disagreed with him. Even after the outbreak, the group we were with hated Merle because of his racist remarks. There were more than a few times when they threatened to kick us out, but I always did damage control. Sometimes I think he knew that I'd always back him and that I would settle the discrepancies between members. It was like Merle never cared what he said or did, his little brother would apologize for him so he wouldn't have to. I was never independent. I was always trailing along behind my brother like a shadow."

Aaron rested his hand on Daryl's arm. "I'd say things have changed now, wouldn't you?"

"But have they? Or do I just follow a different leader now?"

"That's not true, Daryl. Nobody tells you what to do," Aaron stated.

"No? What about Rick … Deanna, they are the ones in charge now, and I just follow their instructions. Merle would kick my ass, want to know why I wasn't telling them what to do. He'd have a few choice words, that's for sure."

"That's not the man I know," Aaron countered. "Before you came to Alexandria, when I was watching your group, I noticed you too, although you tended to stay away most of the time. I'd see you come in and out of the group to check on them or to let them know you were alright. You had ample opportunity to leave them, but you didn't. And when you all were at your lowest, when that storm was coming in, it was you who led them to safety. It was you that they followed and trusted. No one told you to do that. You made that decision on your own. I didn't know it then, but now I know what pain you were in, having lost your friend Beth, and after all you'd done to keep her safe. Someone else might have given up, left the group, gone off alone in misery, but not you. And if your brother never saw what a good man you are, then that was his loss." Aaron took Daryl's chin in his fingers and forced him to look into his eyes. "I see what a good man you are. Doesn't that count for something?" He leaned in halfway, and waited for Daryl to come the rest of the way.

Daryl studied Aaron's face a moment, his eyes coming to rest upon Aaron's waiting mouth. He kissed him, pushing his tongue against his lover's. He felt Aaron giving in to his demanding kiss, and surprised him when he started up his bike. Daryl smiled as they came out of the kiss, and said against his mouth, "You just like me because of the bike."

Aaron smiled back. "You've found me out, my one weakness, a badass on a chopper." He discovered the vibrations from the motor to be very erotic while kissing Daryl, both of them straddling the seat, the smell of oil and leather assaulting his senses in an arousing way. His fingers quickly unbuttoned Daryl's shirt and traveled along the light bristling of chest hair. They moved lower and undid the belt, sliding the zipper down as far as he could until his hand grasped the pliant flesh within. After a few strokes, the flesh took shape, hardening in his palm.

Daryl turned off the bike and broke away from Aaron long enough to get off of the seat. Aaron followed almost at the same time, and they resumed kissing. Aaron's hand returned to his cock after pushing his pants down a bit. Daryl's hand palmed Aaron through his pants, finding him stiff within.

"Let's go inside," Daryl suggested, knowing what they needed to continue was on the nightstand beside the bed.

Aaron reached into his shirt pocket and produced a small tube. "Looking for this?" He handed it to Daryl.

Daryl, unable to control his desire any longer, worked Aaron's belt loose, unzipped him and slipped the khaki pants down until they pooled around Aaron's feet. Aaron stepped out of them and went to the workbench, placing his hands flat on the top. Daryl wasn't far behind, as he had stepped out of his pants and had the cap off of the tube. He came up behind Aaron and kissed his neck, his hand reaching around Aaron's hip, grasping his cock. Daryl had put a small amount of lube in his hand, and was now slicking him up. He prepared them both, and held himself against Aaron. Daryl nudged his legs further apart and pushed him forward slightly to make him bend over the bench so he was at just the right angle. Aaron accepted Daryl with a breathy moan.

This was the only time Daryl felt normal, felt right with the world. Everything made sense when he was with Aaron. Nothing else mattered in these private moments they shared. He started to think that maybe he should stop living in the shadows. Maybe he should come out to the rest of his people, feel more freedom. This new discovery hadn't changed him like he feared. Only a fool would fuck with him. He was still a tough, no bullshit asshole, and he'd never be someone's bitch. All thoughts escaped his mind as his body set its rhythm. The only thing he sought now was release, and satisfying Aaron. Everything else dissolved and faded away.

* * *

It was sometime later, and Aaron and Daryl were resting comfortably in Aaron's bed. Aaron's hand rested on his chest, his leg draped over both of Daryl's. Daryl had one arm around Aaron and the other stretched up on his pillow. They were silent, simply enjoying each other's company, but Daryl knew Aaron wouldn't be quiet for very long. He was right.

"So, I told you my pre-apocalypse story. What about you? What did you do? Where'd you go?"

Aaron asked.

"Well, in the beginning it was just me and Merle. We'd heard about it on the radio, the cities being overrun and the military taking over. We figured the further we were from that shit, the better we'd be. It was ok for a short while, but we knew we couldn't stay. Wasn't until we were out on the open road that we saw how bad it really was. Merle got this dumbass idea that we should hole up in a mall because it had everything we needed to survive. He'd watched too many movies, the dumb bastard." Daryl let out a quiet chuckle as he thought about it. "Then he hooked us up with a dude he'd met who said he was with some people staying just outside of Atlanta. They had a fairly secure camp, some firepower, some pretty women. That's all Merle needed to hear and we were part of their group. Carol was there, Glenn, Carl too. They all hooked up with Rick while some of 'em were in the city doing a supply run. That's when Merle and I got separated. He went with the group doing the run, and I stayed at the camp. He didn't come back." Daryl pulled his arm out from under Aaron and sat up in the bed, leaning against the headboard. Aaron joined him. "You know, I was so pissed when they told me what they did, the group that went into the city. They handcuffed him to a pipe on the roof of a building and left him there. I trusted them to see my brother safe back to the camp, and they abandoned him, chained him up like a dog. It took me a while to hear why they did it. Merle was out of control, shooting walkers from the roof, drawing more dead in with the noise. When they tried to get him to stop, he became volatile and unreasonable, and Rick ended up handcuffing him."

"I know you say your brother was an asshole, but no one deserves to be chained and left behind like that," Aaron commented.

"They were all trapped in that building, you know, and they went to find a way out. They did come back, but the guy with the handcuff key dropped it down a drain … accidentally. Man, I still don't know if that was true or not. I always thought it sounded suspicious, especially since the guy who lost the key had gotten the shit beat out of him by Merle just before all that happened. But I won't speak ill of a dead man. Anyways, they had to make a run for it, and it wasn't until they were in a van heading out of the city that Rick noticed Merle wasn't with them. They got back to camp, and I didn't know who the hell Rick was. All I knew was that he was the new guy and he cuffed my brother to the roof. I wanted to kill him, this nobody, stuck up cop. But all that changed when Rick told the others that he wanted to go back for Merle. I was really surprised. No one else wanted to go. They were happy to see Merle out of the picture. And they didn't give a shit about me. They didn't even know me. I spent most of my time hunting and watching the perimeter of the camp, basically staying away from them all."

Aaron huffed a laugh. "Some things never change, do they?"

Daryl glared from the corner of his eye. "Better watch it," he warned with mirth.

"So did you go back?" Aaron asked so Daryl would continue.

"Yeah, me, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog, the guy who dropped the key, we all went back for Merle, but he was gone … except for his hand. That tough son of a bitch cut off his own hand and got away." Daryl's mood turned somber as he remembered. "For the first time, I was really on my own. Up until then, I always had Merle, or I knew he'd be back. But after we found the empty roof, I thought he might be gone for good. For a long time, I was a real prick. I'd get pretty hostile at times with whoever pissed me off. It guaranteed that the rest of them would leave me alone. What they didn't know … what no one has ever known was that I was scared, and I'd never been more afraid of being alone. Yeah, I know when I was a kid, my brother would disappear from time to time, but he was never really gone, and I always knew where he was. He might have been in jail for a month, but I knew where he was. He might have been off making drug runs, but I knew where he was."

"How long was it before you met up with Merle again?" Aaron asked.

"Oh, I don't know, but it was a long time. By then, Merle had changed. I mean, he wasn't all that good of a person to begin with, but when I found him, he'd gone really dark. I don't know if it was the people he'd gotten himself mixed up with, or if it was the world falling apart around him, but he was really off the deep end. That's when I knew that separating from Merle was probably the best thing that happened to me. If we had stayed together, he would have dragged me down right there with him. You see, I wound up with a group of people who believed in sticking with each other, who believed in helping each other in order to survive. Merle was with people who only cared about themselves and whether what they did would get them further or not. He thought he was in with them, but he was just another rung in their ladder. And when they were through with him, I was the one who picked him up and took him in. The tables had turned, and I don't think he ever really accepted that. In the end, though, I think he was really trying to be good. And I think he saw who I'd become without his influence. I think he was proud of me at the end of all things, and that's all I ever really wanted from him."

After telling his story, Daryl realized that he wasn't following anyone like he followed his brother around. He was a part of this group, not because he traded his brother's authority for Rick's, but because he wanted to be here. He trusted these people and they needed him. They looked to him for protection. He'd found his place with the group. Now, he'd found his place with Aaron.

"It's crazy how things happen, and they can seem devastating at the time, but in hindsight it all works out for the best," Aaron commented.

"I was beginning to doubt myself earlier today, but talking with you and telling you my story, or part of it anyways, has set me straight again. And I'll tell you what else. That woman, Alison, isn't what she seems. She's up to something, and I think she's using people through her therapy. I want to go to her again for another session, only this time I'll be prepared for her mind bending tricks."

"You think that's wise? We could just tell the others and have them start watching her," Aaron said with worry.

Daryl shook his head. "She might become suspicious if we do that. I've already started something with her, so it should be me. It's ok, though. I've got a handle on her."

* * *

A few days later, Daryl went back for a second visit with Alison. The conversation started out on a light note, but it soon turned to questions about Daryl. This time, it wasn't his past she was interested in. It was with the people he associated with. When he refused to give any information about the people in his group, she brought up Aaron, and this sent red flags waving from all directions.

"So," she started. "How do you like being a recruiter?"

"It's alright, I guess. Gets me out of the town." Daryl was back on the couch, legs stretched out along its length.

"I'd prefer you didn't put your feet on my furniture," she said with annoyance.

"Isn't this how it's supposed to be? You're the shrink, and I'm the subject in turmoil who is so devastated I must lay down while you listen to my problems." Daryl dramatically threw his hand up to his forehead.

"Fine then. What is bothering you, Mr. Dixon?" Alison said, not altering from her professionalism.

"Lately, I've been having these weird dreams. Maybe you can help me figure out what they mean."

Alison crossed her arms and stared at Daryl. "Really? You came here to ask me about the meaning of your dreams?"

"Well, you told me not to use the excuse that I was forced to come here as part of my punishment, and we have to have something to talk about," he said, coming off as a smartass again.

"Hmm, because I thought you might be more concerned with the fact that there are people here that don't like you or your group. Why do you think that is?"

Daryl dropped his fake routine and turned serious. "People are scared of what they don't know, and they don't know yet that we are a good addition to this community. We ain't caused much trouble. And Deanna seems to want us here, or she wouldn't have given us our jobs."

"There are quite a few who disagree with her decision to put some of you in such high ranking positions before the community has gotten a chance to know you better. Rick, Michonne … you, for example. She has given you the responsibility of recruiting people with Aaron." Alison stopped and her expression changed. Her smile was too perfect, and Daryl didn't like where things were going at the moment. "Speaking of Aaron, you two seemed to get along quite well."

"He's a good man. He's fair and honest, and he knows people. He's also my good friend, taught me a lot about this place," Daryl said on the defense.

"And you two spend a good amount of time together," she added.

"So," Daryl replied, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Some people in the community find it a bit odd that someone like yourself would … get along so well with a person of Aaron's … sexual preference." Alison worded it carefully, knowing how easy it would be to set Daryl off on a rant.

Daryl put his feet on the floor and leaned forward, his stare targeting Alison where she sat in her chair. "Well, you're the shrink. Isn't it your job to set them straight? Or perhaps you agree with these 'people'."

Alison matched his stare a moment before answering. "I am merely stating a fact, Mr. Dixon, that some people are concerned."

"Well, it's none of their damn business. They don't know what's involved with this recruiting shit. You don't just go skipping out there hoping to find survivors. You have to map out areas, know where walkers frequents, where other survivors have been seen, know where there are dead ends so you don't go and get yourself trapped." His ire was evident in his tone.

"No need to be so defensive. It's almost as though I struck a nerve," Alison said calmly.

"Yeah, you've struck a nerve. Is there something wrong with a redneck and a gay being friends and working together?"

"Of course not. I'm only telling you this because there has been talk, and maybe you want to be more careful."

Daryl stood from the couch. He went to Alison and towered over her. Then he threateningly bent down, placing a hand on each arm of the chair so that he was in her face. "You're no shrink."

"I am, Mr. Dixon. Still have my certificates and awards to prove it, if you'd like to see them," she said confidently. Daryl's threatening manner didn't affect her in the least.

"Maybe you were before hell broke loose, but not anymore. I don't know what your game is, but you would be smart to watch yourself around me and my people. Oh, and if I hear that you've filled Caleb's head with anymore lies, you'll get another visit from me, one that you surely won't want."

"It's you who should be careful. People talk. Word spreads like fire in a small town such as this. They tend to be more observant, and they begin to wonder. You and your people would do good to assimilate with the community instead of being difficult. And for you, Mr. Dixon, be careful who you associate with."

"Yeah, I'll do that," he said angrily before storming out of her house. It was time to gather the group and discuss this. One way or another, Alison was up to no good.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 Guidance**

"So basically, Alison was telling us to keep one eye over our shoulders, and I don't mean as though she's watching out for us," Daryl explained to his group. He'd gathered everyone at Rick's house to tell them about his so called session with the town psychiatrist.

"What can one person do?" Glenn questioned. "She'd have to get Deanna to side with her, and I don't think that's going to happen."

"Personally? I don't think she gives a rat's ass what Deanna thinks," Daryl retorted. "She's legit. I saw her credentials. Before the outbreak, she was a bona fide shrink. She told me her story, though, of how she'd lost her daughter. I don't know. I believe her, and maybe what she saw and experienced messed her up. Wouldn't be the first time. Remember the Governor?"

"The difference with that situation was the Governor had already claimed that town as his own. Deanna runs Alexandria, and if someone is threatening her position, then it's up to us to see that it doesn't come to fruition," Rick told the group.

Michonne stepped forward and addressed everyone. "We need to prove to Deanna that we are on her side. She's put an awful lot of trust into our group of strangers, and I think that's because she knows our stories. She knows we've been out there longer than anyone else in this town."

Carol nodded in compliance. "That being said, she hasn't completely accepted us yet. We're still being tested, which is why we have to keep playing by her rules." As she spoke, she made a point to look at Rick. Daryl couldn't help notice the warning glare and tucked it away in his head to ask her about it later.

Rick turned to Daryl. "Is there any way we can find out who has been paying visits to Alison, maybe see who's been there the most?"

"You won't find that out from Alison, confidentiality and all that bullshit. And after our last meeting, I think I've worn out my welcome," Daryl said.

"I could ask around to some of the women from my care givers group," Carol offered.

"We almost need someone who sees her to hint around, maybe find out who some of her other clients are. If we can find out that much, we might be able to start pinpointing who she's been influencing. We already know certain townspeople who don't like us being here, and it's obvious they would prefer to see us leave," Rick suggested. "What about Caleb?" he asked Daryl.

"He still sees her for sessions, but she also knows that Caleb is tight with me and Aaron. I think Alison will know he's working for us," Daryl said.

Aaron had been off to the side listening to the conversation, and now stepped up to take the floor. "Eric has been seeing her regularly." All eyes turned to Aaron, but none were more questioning than Daryl's. Aaron glanced at him and turned away quickly.

"I thought you and Eric were split up?" Michonne inquired.

"W-we are, but he, uh, he told me the other day that he'd been going to her for help," Aaron stammered. "Our break up has been … it's been rough on him."

"Do you think he'd work with us?" Rick asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Daryl spoke up quickly, eyes glaring at Aaron.

"Why not?" Michonne pushed on. "It would be the perfect cover. Alison would never suspect it, especially since she knows Aaron and Eric aren't together anymore."

Daryl seemed to get angry that no one was listening to him. "I don't like it. Eric might still have ill feelings towards Aaron. How do we know he won't turn around and side with Alison? She's already been in his head." He knew from experience how she could manipulate someone's mind and make them doubt themselves.

"Eric is kind of out there on his own right now," Aaron said. "We might not be together anymore, but we're still friendly towards one another. I think he would work with us."

"Good," Rick agreed. "Talk to him. See what you can do. Explain the situation. If he wants to keep us here and keep Deanna in charge of this town, he'll agree to help."

"Ahhh," Daryl grunted and stormed off to the front porch. He noticed Aaron didn't follow. Just as well. He couldn't have the conversation he needed to have in front of everyone. What the hell was this anyways? Aaron and Eric were friends now? And after what happened with Eric making shit up to keep him and Aaron away from each other, how could Aaron trust him again?

The screen door creaked open, and soft footsteps entered the porch. Daryl didn't turn to see who it was, but he knew it wasn't Aaron. "Hey," Carol said, coming up beside him. "What's going on with you two?"

"I don't know. Seems like I'm the last one to find shit out," Daryl said angrily.

"Oh, so you didn't know that Eric and Aaron were on speaking terms?" Carol said sympathetically. Daryl didn't react. "Aw, honey, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"It's not so much that," Daryl finally said. "It's the fact that Aaron didn't tell me. He was hiding it from me, and we don't hide anything from each other."

"He's been talking to his ex … not the kind of thing one shares with their current partner."

Daryl regarded her with disbelief. "That's bullshit. He should be able to come to me about anything."

"Look at your reaction just now, the way you walked out of the room, your body language. He knew you'd react badly. I think it's nothing, and he just didn't want to upset you. You know you have trust issues."

"Oh, you too?" he said condescendingly. "That seems to be the prognosis when it comes to me. So what? You gonna become my shrink now?"

"Look," Carol said, her ire rising. "I don't know what kind of ghosts Alison stirred up with you, but you need to calm down before you regret something."

"Eh, I'm going home," Daryl mumbled, and he left.

* * *

The nights were getting colder, and soon Daryl wouldn't be able to sit on his small porch. He tolerated the chilly air tonight, though, not wanting to be cramped inside his house. It was one of the smaller one story houses, and that was fine with him. He hadn't spent much time in his own home since becoming Aaron's partner, but that might be changing soon. Daryl contemplated what happened earlier at the meeting. How could Aaron not tell him that he'd been speaking with Eric? How long had that been going on? Now Eric might be working with the group. How was Daryl supposed to cope with that and keep up his front with everyone? Daryl didn't even get a say in the matter, which really pissed him off.

He could feel the voices rising in the back of his mind. Whenever he had doubts, they came back, ready to make his life a living hell, to put him down, to mock him and make him feel worthless. Daryl had managed to keep them at bay for a long time with Aaron's help, but this issue they were having seemed to allow his past to creep back to the forefront of his mind.

"Aaron doesn't trust you because deep down he knows you're not really one of his kind. You don't expect me to believe that you actually let him bend you over and–" said Merle's voice.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl headed him off.

"I loved you, little brother, but lately you've been such a disappointment."

"Leave me alone," Daryl said.

"Afraid I can't. You're vulnerable right now. That's why I'm here. Someone needs to talk some straight shit into that head of yours." Merle's voice was very strong in Daryl's ear. "So you got into a disagreement with your … boyfriend … and now you're feeling left out. Well boo hoo Nancy boy. Quit your weeping and put your big girl panties on. You're just now beginning to see Aaron's true colors. Everything's all fine and dandy, until Eric has a crisis. Where does that leave you? I think you just found out tonight."

"I said shut up!" Daryl demanded to the voice.

"Is it because you have Daddy issues? Well, so did I, but I didn't turn into some cock jock," Merle insulted. "Now, you've got to get it together and stop all this nonsense. There's a war going on out there. Hell, there's about to be a war in here. You need to take control, brother."

"I have control," Daryl murmured.

"Oh, do you? Is that why you're sitting here sulking while Rick calls all the shots? Oh wait, I forgot, you're too worried about your butt buddy." Merle's voice became real quiet and close to Daryl's ear. "Now listen here. I'm willing to ignore and forget whatever this homo shit is that's going on with you, but you gotta get it together. There's bigger things to worry about right now. You know you can't go back out in the open on a permanent basis. You gotta protect Alexandria, and you can't do that if your mind's preoccupied. Aaron kept something secret from you because he doesn't completely trust you. You don't have time for games. It's time to move on and get your shit together. Don't lose who you are, Daryl, or who you used to be. This relationship crap is making you soft. Don't go there little brother. Stay strong. Stay in charge. Now … snap out of it!"

Daryl had fallen asleep on the porch, and by Merle's words, woke with a start. Goosebumps had broken out on his flesh, but he didn't think it was only because of the chill in the air. There was ice mixed in with the cool fall breeze lightly blowing across the porch, an unnatural temperature drop. He was about to stand from his wooden chair and go inside when he heard someone coming up the sidewalk. Daryl slunk down into the chair, letting shadows consume his figure, and waited to see who it was.

Aaron approached the steps, but stopped and looked up at the house. He let out a sigh and took a single step forward, but he went no further. He was afraid to come any closer, unaware that Daryl was on the porch watching him. Aaron was hesitant, and with good reason. He knew Daryl was upset, and he wasn't sure now was the time to speak with him. It seemed like he was changing his mind, as he stayed himself from coming up the porch steps. He brought his foot back, and started to turn away and leave.

Merle's words rang out in Daryl's mind, but his heart spoke much louder. He was still angry, of course, but he also wanted to resolve this issue. He needed to know his brother was wrong, that Aaron had a good reason not to tell him about Eric. He watched Aaron turn to head back the way he came.

"You just happen to be in the neighborhood?" Daryl said from the shadows.

Aaron jumped and spun around, narrowing his eyes as he looked up at the porch. "I didn't think you were home," he responded. The house was dark inside and so was the porch. "Can … can I come up?"

Daryl reached for a book of matches he kept on a table by his chair, ripped one of the cardboard sticks out, and dragged it across the striking surface. One small match lit up the entire area in a flash of the strike, and quickly faded to a dull glow as Daryl touched the flame to a candle. When there was enough light, Aaron ascended the steps and joined Daryl on the porch. There wasn't another chair, so Aaron sat on the floorboards with his back against a post. He looked up at Daryl, a genuinely apologetic gleam in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Aaron finally said, breaking the silence. "I should have told you."

"But you didn't," Daryl responded coldly. "You two see each other often?"

"No … well … for Christ's sake, it's a small town. We can't exactly avoid each other."

"Try harder," Daryl spit out.

"You see, this is exactly why I didn't say anything to you. I knew you'd blow it out of proportion," Aaron said, trying to turn the tables.

"Fuck you, man. You ain't gonna put this on me. You're the one going around being all buddy-buddy with your ex, leaving me in the dark. I have to find out at a meeting with my friends. What kind of shit is that?" Daryl argued.

"Did you think I'd never speak to Eric again? We were together for two years. There's history there that can't just be forgotten about."

"Well, you seemed to have no problem forgetting to tell me." Daryl got up from his chair and walked to the opposite side of the porch. "Man, it's not that you're still talking to Eric that pisses me off. It's the fact that you didn't tell me. We don't keep secrets from each other. That's the whole thing about you and me. We've always been open and honest with each other. I trust you, and I thought that you trusted me."

"I do trust you, Daryl. My God, I trust you with every fiber of my being. I just knew it would upset you to know that Eric and I still talk to one another."

"You never gave me the chance to know whether it upset me or not, which tells me that there is a part of you that doesn't trust me, and that really hurts."

Aaron hung his head. "I know and I am sorry. I should have told you what was going on, but I honestly didn't think you'd want to know about Eric's problems. He came to me a little while ago, said he was seeing Alison for help. Our breakup was hard on him, and with no one else to talk to, he turned to her. It took him a while to build up the confidence to tell me. He said it was part of his healing process." Aaron paused and looked over to where Daryl was standing. "I know it's my fault that he's going through this. Two years, Daryl, that's how long we were together. Two years of trying to convince myself that I could love him, only to discover that my heart was empty. His wasn't, though, and it's my fault that I let it get so far. I knew he had fallen for me, but I just led him on. It's the least I can do to help mend my own guilt. I can at least listen and support him. I didn't think you'd understand that."

"Why? Because I'm a hot head? Because I'm a redneck?" Daryl inquired accusingly.

"Because you've never been in a relationship before. You don't have any experience with breakups and how to handle things."

Daryl finally looked at Aaron, but with anger. "Well, maybe I'm about to learn something new."

Aaron stood quickly and went to Daryl. "Come on. You don't mean that."

"Wanna try me?"

"So it would be that easy for you?" Aaron asked. "You don't like something I've done, and you'd be willing to throw everything away just like that?"

"Maybe I haven't been in a relationship, but I know I ain't got time to play games. You gotta take me as I am, short temper and all. You should have known better than to keep something like this from me. How else am I supposed to act? You've pissed me off … and … you've deceived me. So you know what? I ain't playing. You can't be open and honest? Bye!"

"This isn't you," Aaron said in a whisper. "You're upset. I understand. I'm sorry. But don't act like you don't care anymore." Aaron begged.

Daryl got in Aaron's face, and like usual, Aaron didn't flinch. "I care that someone I trust doesn't trust me. I care that someone I've shared my deepest, darkest secrets with can't even tell me that he's been talking with his ex-boyfriend."

"So you're saying you only care about yourself?" Aaron accused.

"It's worked for me so far," Daryl seethed. He stepped away from Aaron and waved him off. "I'm done talking. Go home, Aaron. Or better yet, why don't you go find Eric and cry on his shoulder like he does yours." Daryl stormed into his house and slammed the door behind him.

Aaron stood there, dumbfounded. What had happened tonight? "Fuck," he complained under his breath as he walked down the porch steps and headed for home.

* * *

For the next few days, Daryl made himself scarce, and Aaron was in a bad mood. He still hadn't spoken to Eric about working with Rick and his people to find out more about Alison. He knew if he did, Daryl would probably never speak to him again, yet Eric could be key to discovering exactly what Alison was up to. Aaron wasn't even sure Eric would agree to it. Rick would want an answer soon. The pressure put on Aaron made matters worse.

He was preparing to go on a run with Glenn, and was going around asking residents if they had any special requests, like he usually did. One resident, in particular, he tried to avoid at all costs. He didn't have time for her and her unending need of a pasta maker. Luck was not on his side, though. As Aaron was talking to a couple people and adding their requests to his list, Mrs. Neudermyer came rushing up to him.

Normally, Aaron didn't judge people. Everyone was different, and he learned how to deal with them, always putting on a smile. Today, he was in no mood. "Hello, Mrs. Neudermyer," he said without enthusiasm.

"I heard you were going out again. I have a list, if you don't mind picking up a few things for me," she said, handing Aaron a piece of paper with the items written on it.

He glanced at it quickly, and was surprised to see items like yarn and crochet needles. "Looks like you've picked up a new hobby."

"Yes," she smiled. "Mrs. Baker found some books on crocheting at her house, and she gave them to me, knowing how crafty I am. Unfortunately, there were no other supplies to go along with the books, and I'd like to try my hand at it."

Glad she wasn't going to hound him for the usual, he smiled. "Any particular colors you would like?" he asked about the yarn.

"Oh, anything will do." She was normally a very picky person, and Aaron was glad to see that she was trying to be a bit more flexible. "I trust your judgement, you know, being a gay man and all. Your kind has a natural flair for fashion and coordinating colors."

He knew it was too good to be true. Along with her obsession for things she couldn't have, Mrs. Neudermyer also had a gift for profiling people according to skin color and sexual preference. Her statement cut through him like fingernails scraping a chalkboard, but he smiled and told her he'd do his best to find what she was looking for. At least she wasn't ranting on and on about . . .

"And of course, should you happen to find a pasta maker," she added.

"Yes, Mrs. Neudermyer, I know," Aaron said with little patience.

"Well, I hate to keep asking, but all the times you've gone out, you've never brought one back. I would think by now you would have found one," she complained lightly.

"It's not as though I can run down to the local department store and pick one up for you," Aaron said arrogantly. "I mean, I'm only risking my life every time I leave the gate."

Mrs. Neudermyer leaned back, the smile disappearing from her face. "There's no need to get snippy young man," she berated.

"Oh, of course not, because I'm gay and I should automatically know where all the pasta makers are. Never mind that there are things out there that want to rip me apart and consume me while I'm still alive," Aaron complained.

"That's just disgusting," she said offended.

"It's a fact. It's life outside these walls, Mrs. Neudermyer, and all you care about is finding a fucking pasta maker," Aaron shouted, obviously pushed beyond his current limits.

"Well … I never–"

"Hey, what's going on here?" Carol said, coming up behind Aaron with a smile and acting like she hadn't heard any of their conversation. She had heard the whole thing, though, and was shocked to hear Aaron speaking in such a way that wasn't part of his common behavior. Before anyone spoke, Carol wrapped an arm around Mrs. Neudermyer's shoulder. "I'm glad I ran into you. Betty is looking for some help in the kitchen, and I can't go. I'm running an errand for Mr. Hastings, since he's feeling a bit under the weather today. Would you mind going? She said something about a crate of apples."

Mrs. Neudermyer tore her gaze away from Aaron at the mention of apples. "No problem. I have a great recipe for apple sauce."

Carol watched Aaron make a face behind Mrs. Neudermyer's back, but she ignored him. "Thank you. I promise to return the favor," Carol smiled as she turned the woman in the direction of the kitchen, and then gave her a gentle push. She watched Mrs. Neudermyer walk away, and mumbled quietly. "That's gonna cost me." She rounded on Aaron and gave him a harsh look. "What was that about?"

"I hate applesauce. My mother used to force me to eat it all the time. It's a long story," he said, skirting the question.

"That's not what I'm talking about," Carol said. "Why were you yelling at Mrs. Neudermyer?"

"Her and that damn pasta maker will be the death of me," Aaron complained.

Carol glared when Aaron wouldn't budge. "Now tell me what's really going on," Carol insisted.

"Do I really need to explain?" he said.

"Daryl?" Carol guessed.

"Who else? Of course it's Daryl. It's always Daryl, only this time he seems pretty adamant. I think we broke up."

Carol squint her eyes and smiled sympathetically. "You can't mean that."

"He's pissed at me about Eric, and instead of talking about it like two adults, he basically told me it was over. I haven't even seen him in a few days. I don't know, Carol. This time I think I really blew it."

"Hey, why don't we take a walk? You don't have anywhere to be right now, do you?" she asked.

"I need to visit a few more people," he said.

"That can wait. Come on, let's talk," Carol told him as she started walking along the sidewalk. Aaron followed her. They made small talk at first, before Carol came to the reason they were walking together. "Did Daryl ever tell you how he and I became friends?"

"No, he's never spoken of it. He doesn't talk much about the beginning of things."

They were passing by a small lake within the town. The original developers of the community built a gazebo and a dock, a place for residents to sit and enjoy the view. Carol led Aaron there, and they had a seat on a wooden bench beneath the gazebo. Carol stared out at the lake, and Aaron waited for her to talk. Obviously, it was a difficult subject for her, even after all this time.

"When everything happened, I had a husband and a daughter. My husband was the one who invited Daryl's brother to join our group. When I met Merle, I understood why. They were a lot alike, loud, rude, mean, condescending. I thought Daryl was just like them at first. He was always with his brother, agreeing with him, laughing at the same racist jokes, just being assholes really." Carol paused to laugh at the thought. She and Aaron both knew Daryl pretty well now, and though he could still be an asshole, he wasn't that kind of one any more.

"Well, I'm sure you know what happened to Merle," she said.

Aaron nodded. "He told me the basics."

Carol continued. "Eventually our camp became unsafe. Walkers found us. My husband was killed by them. A couple other members of our group died. We packed up and left, headed out on the highway to find a better place, but the roads became impassable. Abandoned cars blocked our route. While we tried to figure out what to do, a herd came by. It all happened so fast. My daughter got scared and ran into the woods, and just like that, she was gone. Rick, of course, went looking for her, but so did Daryl. Up until then, I didn't think he cared about any of us. I thought he was just there because it was safer to be with a group. He was always off on his own, even though he'd check in from time to time. He was the outsider. His only support, Merle, was gone. I really didn't think he was going to stay with us much longer. I thought he was going to go off and look for his brother, and forget about our group. He never did, though. He stayed, but he was aloof. That's why it surprised me when he went with Rick to find my daughter, my Sophia. And, as things usually go, other situations came up. We couldn't stay on the highway for fear of another herd. One bad thing led to another, and we came to a farmhouse belonging to a father and his two daughters. Maggie is one of those daughters," Carol smiled.

"Yeah, Daryl told me a few stories about, uh, Hershel. Right?"

"Yes, Hershel, Maggie and Beth," Carol confirmed. She twisted her hands together as she went on. "Days had passed, and Sophia still hadn't been found. Other things happened in that time, and less and less people could go looking for her. Some said we should have given up and accepted the fact that she was gone, take the loss. But it was my daughter, and not knowing was the worst kind of pain I'd ever felt in my life. There was one constant in all that time, and that was Daryl. It became his only focus to go out looking for her. Of all the people in our group, he was the last person I'd ever guess who would do such a thing. You know Daryl, he said he only did it because he was a good tracker, or that he needed something to do, but it was more than that. He actually cared. He almost died looking for her, and he was on his feet and ready to risk his own health to continue searching for Sophia. Eventually, even I lost hope of ever finding her again. I was her mother, and I was ready to give up, but not Daryl. He got so pissed at me, and I couldn't understand why. She wasn't his. We weren't family. I barely knew him. But he … never … gave up. He … never … stopped, and it was simply because he cared."

"I take it you never found her," Aaron said when Carol stopped to reflect on her story.

"No, we found her." Carol took a deep breath, preparing to relive that horrible time. "Hershel was keeping walkers in his barn, family members, friends and neighbors. He still thought of them as human. He still thought there would be a cure that would change them all back to normal. There was a lot of arguing over what we should do with a barn full of walkers in our backyard. Eventually they were destroyed. One by one, they came out of the barn, and our shooters took them out. The last one to come out was my daughter. She had a … bite mark on her neck. She never made it out of the woods alive. Hershel had a man gathering up any walkers he found on the property, and he'd put them in the barn. I guess he came across Sophia and did the same for her. All that time that we were praying and hoping to find her, and she was already dead. I was beside myself with grief, and it was Daryl who held me in his arms as I cried. This man who I thought cared for nothing but himself was the last one to hold out hope for my daughter, and I think it ripped at his soul as much as it did mine to see her come out of that barn. After that, he shut down. He wouldn't participate with the group. He wouldn't come to the house for meals. He pitched a tent out away from the house and our camp, and he isolated himself. I went to talk to him, to thank him, to ask him not to pull away from us, and he was so angry. He called me names, said it was my fault I lost Sophia, said he regretted ever helping me, but I saw through his tantrum. He was hurting, but he didn't know how to let it out. Instead, he became irate, belligerent. He tried to push me away with insults, by acting like he just didn't care, but I saw through all of that, because I had seen him care. Daryl cared about me and my daughter, two people he hardly knew. So what does that say about you and him?"

"I know that anger you talked about. I saw it in his eyes. It was like I didn't even know who he was," Aaron admitted.

"He's hurting again, and he still doesn't know how to let it out. All Daryl knows is to push away the source of that pain, but you can't let him." Carol took Aaron's hand in hers. "If he cared that much about a mother and daughter he hardly knew, imagine what his feelings for you must be like." Then she squeezed Aaron's hand rather hard. "I'm not letting you off the hook. You should have known better. You should have told him right away about Eric." She loosened her grip and smiled. "But I know why you did it. You were only trying to protect him."

"I didn't think he'd understand. I just thought it wasn't that big a deal. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him."

"You still haven't told him how you feel about him, have you?" Carol asked.

"I tried once but … well … it's Daryl, you know? But now . . ."

"He's just venting. It's not over with you two. Daryl doesn't give up that easy. But you've got some damage control to tend to," Carol advised. "Especially if Eric is going to work with us. Have you spoken to him about Alison yet?"

"No. I've been trying to figure out how to balance everything, what to say to Eric, and what Daryl will say, if he'll ever speak to me again," Aaron said sounding defeated.

"First Daryl," Carol told him. "Patch things up and make him understand that what you're doing is for everyone's benefit. He knows that already, but he needs reminding. Then go to Eric and see what you can do. I've been hinting around to some of my women friends, and no one has a bad thing to say about Alison."

"I know. Even I don't have anything against her, but I trust Daryl, and if he's leery of her, then I believe him," Aaron said. He looked out over the lake. "Well, I better get going. Glenn will be wondering where I am." The two stood and Aaron took up Carol's hand, bringing her attention to him. "I'm sorry about your family, especially your daughter. I didn't know, but I'm glad you told me."

"No one has escaped tragedy in this disaster, but thank you," she said humbly.

* * *

Aaron caught up to Glenn, and they were just finishing up collecting their weapons and a few supplies before they headed out on their run, when Aaron caught sight of Daryl across the way.

"Hey, do you mind if I have a word with Daryl before we go?" Aaron asked.

"No, go ahead, but don't be too long. We need to get going while it's still early," Glenn answered.

Aaron went towards Daryl at a trot, crossing the street to catch up with him. Daryl seemed to be in his own world, and didn't see Aaron come up behind him. "Daryl, wait," Aaron called.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, but he didn't stop walking.

"Daryl," Aaron called again, and Daryl stopped.

"What do you want?" Daryl said, not sounding happy to see him.

"I just wanted to speak with you before I left. I'm going out with Glenn on a supply run."

"You still do that?" Daryl asked.

"Every once in a while."

"Well, good luck." Daryl started walking away.

"About the other day–" Aaron said rather loud, making Daryl pause his tread.

"Not now, Aaron," Daryl warned.

"Now seems good a time as any. You haven't been around much lately."

"With good reason."

"So is this what you want? You just want to ignore me, hope I go away instead of talking about what happened?"

"You don't seem to want to tell me what's going on, so I'm just repaying the favor."

Daryl started to leave, but Aaron grasped his arm. "No," he said firmly.

Daryl looked down at the hand. "Let go of me."

"Not until you talk to me."

"I don't have anything to say. Now let go of me before I punch you in the face," Daryl threatened. He yanked his arm away from Aaron.

"That's your answer for everything. You don't like something, you hit it, you punch it, you push it away. Well, you can't get rid of me that easily. Look, I screwed up. I'm human. I make mistakes. But I also apologized. Won't you hear me out?" Aaron pleaded.

"I heard you just fine at the meeting. Not only do you still see Eric and talk to him, but now you're willing to work with him and introduce him into the group. Did you have the balls to tell me or ask me? No, you just did it."

"This isn't just about Eric, is it?" Aaron said, as he started to see the truth of what was happening. "Talk to me, Daryl. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. Now go on. Glenn's waiting for you." Once more, Daryl started to leave, but Aaron grabbed his arm again. "Let … go," Daryl seethed.

"No," Aaron replied, tightening his grip.

Daryl looked left and right, and then he grabbed Aaron's free arm and dragged him from the sidewalk between two vacant houses, out of the sight of any spectators. Daryl shoved Aaron against the side of one of the houses. "Fucking leave me alone."

"No. I won't. I-I can't. I can't do that b-because … I … I-I love you," Aaron stammered.

"You take that back," Daryl said through clenched teeth.

"It's out there now. I can't take it back. It's the truth, and maybe I should have said it a while ago, but there it is, Daryl. I love you."

Daryl grabbed Aaron by the collar of his shirt and twisted it. His other hand came up, balled into a fist aimed at Aaron's face. "Take it back."

"No," Aaron said, looking Daryl straight in the eyes. "You can beat the shit out of me, but it won't change my feelings for you."

Daryl shook his head. "Why you gotta go and make everything difficult? I don't want you to love me. I never asked for that. You start saying shit like that, and we become weak. We can't get weak, not now, not with everything going on."

"The way I see it, it makes us stronger. We have something to fight for," Aaron argued.

"No, you're wrong. You let emotions come into the picture, and it makes you weak, it makes you soft."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I know from experience. Damn it, Aaron, don't you fucking see? I loved my brother and he's dead. I loved my friend Beth, and I couldn't protect her. Everyone that I ever let into my heart has died. Everyone I cared for is gone. And now you say this shit to me. You weren't supposed to. We were just having some fun together. It wasn't supposed to get serious," Daryl admitted. He released Aaron and threw his back against the house in defeat.

Aaron slowly pushed away from the house and turned to face Daryl. "I get it now," he said, making a realization. "You're not just pissed that I didn't tell you about Eric. You're jealous, and in order to be jealous you have to care. You care and it scares the hell out of you."

"I'm pissed because you don't trust me enough to tell me."

Aaron shook his head in defiance. "No, you know I trust you, and you trust me. We've proven that to each other since the beginning. This is about your personal feelings. You know what we have is something more than just a good time."

"It wasn't supposed to be. It was just about trust, nothing more. Nothing fucking more," Daryl said, his anger boiling.

Aaron closed the distance between them. "But it didn't stop there, and you know it. Don't fight it, Daryl. It won't make you weak. It won't make me weak either. I feel empowered now, like nothing can stop me. I love you, and I'm stronger for having admitted it. Won't you tell me what you're feeling?"

"I don't feel nothing," Daryl said, but his voice was weak and unconvincing.

"Every time we kiss, it's there. Every time we make love, it's there. You know this, Daryl. I've seen it in your eyes. I've felt it in your touch. Stop denying it. Please. No regrets, remember? Say something. I need to know," Aaron begged and pleaded until Daryl couldn't stand it anymore.

With one last effort to put a stop to Aaron's imploring, Daryl took him in his grip and spun them around, shoving Aaron against the house. Aaron was still calling to him to admit his feelings. He just wouldn't stop.

"Shut up. Just fucking shut up," Daryl said as his emotions boiled to the surface. But Aaron's eyes looked into his, and he could see the truth. Aaron wasn't lying. He wasn't saying this just to get Daryl to take him back and stop ignoring him. It was all right there in those blue depths, and it was too late to deny it anymore.

"Fuck!" Daryl cried out, his fist flying past Aaron's head, hitting the house behind him. Then he kissed Aaron roughly, wantonly, leaving him without any breath. As long as they kissed, he wouldn't have to speak, he thought.

Aaron must have thought the same thing, and grabbed Daryl's hair at the back of his head, pulling their mouths apart, eyes begging to hear those three words that would make all of this right. But Daryl couldn't, he just couldn't say it. He hadn't even thought about it long enough to know if he could truly return the words. He'd never told anyone that he loved them. For Daryl, they were the three most important, truthful words that one human could say to another human, and you didn't say it unless you were sure all the way to the bottom of your heart.

Aaron could see the difficult time Daryl was having with this. He was sad, but at the same time, he knew there was something between them that couldn't be denied. Daryl wouldn't still be here with him if he didn't feel the same way. He just couldn't get the words out. After everything he'd been through in his life, Aaron could understand why. He wished he could have gotten Daryl to admit his feelings, but it just wasn't time yet. Soon, he hoped. Soon, Daryl would tell him what he wanted to hear.

"You'll tell me one day. I know you will," Aaron whispered to him. "In your own good redneck time," he laughed quietly.

Daryl kissed Aaron again, slower and with less force. He hoped Aaron understood why he couldn't say it. He was scared, plain and simple. He couldn't say it without completely giving in, and it worried him to give in and then have something happen to Aaron. With the building tension within the town, it just wasn't the right time.

Daryl took the moment to look around. They were still alone, though he felt exposed. They had been in the alley too long. "You better go."

"I will in a moment. Just one more thing. What about Eric?" Aaron asked carefully. "Rick's waiting for me to report to him, but I wasn't going to go through with it unless you were alright with it."

"I don't think I'll ever be alright with it, but it's for the good of the group. Fine then, see what you can do."

"Good. I'll talk to him as soon as I get back from this run."

"You be careful out there, got it?" Daryl warned.

"Always. I'll be back in one piece. Don't worry." Aaron reached out and took Daryl's hand. He squeezed it and held it a moment. "Thank you."

Daryl cocked his head to the side, smiling with his eyes. He wanted to kiss Aaron again, but a noise stole his attention. Someone, a man, was walking up the sidewalk. He turned his head to look between the houses. His eyes went straight to Daryl and Aaron's joined hands. Daryl ripped it away quickly, but it wasn't soon enough. The wind blew, making the leaves on the tree move, the shadows over the stranger's face scattering until Daryl saw him clearly for an instant. It was Jessie's husband, Pete, and he looked directly at Daryl's face. The two recognized each other, although they hadn't ever spoken to one another. Then Pete's sight turned to the place where Daryl and Aaron's hands had been connected. He saw, Daryl thought to himself in a moment of pure panic. He saw them holding hands, and Daryl jerk his out of Aaron's. After what felt like eternity, Pete continued walking up the sidewalk and away from Daryl and Aaron, but it was too late. Damn it, Pete saw them. Now what?


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 The List**

Aaron waited around until he saw Eric coming out of one of the storage warehouses, where extra canned goods, bags of flour and rice, and other staples were kept. He approached Eric, who smiled when he saw Aaron.

"Back already?" Eric said.

"Yeah, it was a quick run. No trouble. Actually, it's kind of quiet out there right now. Must be the colder weather moving in. I think it slows down the roamers."

"Too bad it doesn't freeze and kill them," Eric mentioned.

Aaron noticed that Eric held a folded up paper in his hand. "What you got there?"

Eric quickly tucked the paper into his shirt pocket. "Nothing important. So, how are you?" he said to change the subject.

"I'm real good," Aaron smiled.

Eric looked forward and asked reluctantly. "And how's Daryl?"

"Daryl is … Daryl," Aaron answered to avoid any further discussion.

"Trouble in paradise?" Eric asked sounding hopeful.

"No, it's good. We're good. Hey, I wanted to ask you about Alison," Aaron pressed on.

"Alison? What about? You in need of some therapy?"

"No, at least I don't think so. I wanted to know what you thought about her practice."

"She's good. She knows what she's doing as far as I can tell." Eric glanced sideways at Aaron as they walked along. "What's this about, Aaron?"

"It's probably nothing, but … well … a boy in town, a new resident, has been seeing her, and he mentioned something she told him during one of their sessions. It's got Rick and his people slightly curious about who Alison is, where she came from, and who else she might be helping." Aaron went on to explain the incident about Alison suggesting Caleb might be gay because he was raped.

"She said that to him?" Eric seemed shocked.

"Unfortunately, yes. Daryl was talking with Caleb and he said something about–"

"Daryl again I see," Eric butted in.

"He's been teaching Caleb how to fight and hunt. Caleb looks up to him."

"Maybe you should change that. He's not the best role model," Eric said, taking a shot at Daryl.

"Come on, don't be like that. Daryl's a good man. You know he is, even with all his flaws."

"Those flaws are going burn you eventually," Eric warned.

Aaron ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He knew this wouldn't be an easy conversation. "Look, I'm not here to talk about Daryl. I came to you on behalf of Rick and his people. You know as well as I that there are people who want to see them banished."

"Yes, and I don't wholly disagree with that."

Aaron was shocked to hear Eric say this. When Rick's group first arrived, it was Eric who stood up for them right away. What had changed, he wondered. It wasn't just the fact that Daryl was a part of that group. Something else was driving Eric to say this. "You've seen what they are capable of. You've also seen what our people are not. We've been living here by luck alone so far. You haven't been out there in a while, and I have. The roamers are herding more and more. You know how it is. Just a couple, no problem. A small group, easy to handle. But if they grow to a certain size, they'll crush everything in their path. These walls are strong, but not against a tidal wave of roamers. No one here is thinking about future possibilities except Rick. They want to be here. They want to keep Alexandria as the safe zone it was meant to be. That's what some of the residents don't understand."

Eric searched Aaron's face looking into his eyes. "But it's the length that Rick's willing to go to do that that makes people leery. They're scared, that's all. Rick and his people, they're aggressive, they're sneaky. They don't tell us the whole truth."

Aaron stepped back and shook his head. "You didn't used to believe that. They saved you when they didn't even know who you were or where you came from. That didn't matter. All they saw was a life in jeopardy. Don't you remember what you told me? You said you liked them and you trusted them. You said you wanted them here."

"I did trust them … until one of them took you from me," Eric admitted, eyes misting over with a light sheen of moisture. "I'm afraid the rest of them will do the same thing with the town."

Aaron turned his head to the side, not able to look at Eric for fear of the emotions he was stirring. "Eric–"

"Maybe we weren't meant to be here," Eric interrupted. "You know we've never fit in … the looks, the stares, the whispers when they used to see us together."

"You think we would have been better off out there?" Aaron asked to challenge him. "I'd rather take my chances with a few homophobes rather than face the terrors outside of these walls." He reached out and put a hand on Eric's shoulder. "You sound as though you don't want to be here anymore. Please don't talk like that. You know there's nowhere else to go."

"But what if there was? If you knew there was a place where we would be accepted, would you go? Would you leave Alexandria behind, and Rick's group? Would you leave Daryl here and go with me to try and rekindle what we once had?" When Aaron didn't answer right away, Eric shook his head and turned his eyes to the ground. His hand absently touched his shirt pocket where he'd put that piece of paper. "I guess it was too much for me to wish for."

"Eric, I'm sorry," Aaron said.

Eric forced a smile, but his eyes spoke of his sadness. "Don't be. It's not your fault. The heart wants what the heart wants, doesn't it?" He seemed to shake himself of his emotions, and came back to the reason Aaron was talking to him. "So, about Alison, I like her. She's really helped me. I don't know why she would have said those things to the kid. It's not for me to know."

"So you won't help us?" Aaron asked, just to make sure.

Eric gave a sigh. "I can tell you where she keeps her appointment book, but that's all. You'll have to get it yourself. I'll distract her for you. I'm seeing her again tomorrow. While I'm in session, you can sneak in."

Aaron nodded, surprised at how willing Eric was to do this. "I really appreciate your help, Eric. Thank you."

"You know I can't say no to you," Eric smiled bashfully in return. "Besides, I really do like Alexandria, and I want to see it stay safe. I agree with you that there are some here that aren't looking out for the town's best interest, but I don't think Alison has anything to do with them."

"Maybe not. We'll just have to see," Aaron replied.

* * *

The next day, Aaron waited around the corner from Alison's house. He watched at a distance as Eric knocked on the door. Alison answered with a smile and showed him in. Before he entered, he looked up and down the street, his sign to Aaron that everything was going as planned. Eric said he would unlock the back door. Alison held her sessions in the library, but the book Aaron was looking for was in an office right next to it. This was going to be tricky, but there was no other choice. It was Eric he worried about. Eric had a tendency to be much too honest, and he became very nervous whenever he was involved in something that he knew was risky or wrong.

Aaron snuck between houses, making his way to the backyard. He checked constantly to make sure the coast was clear, and finally stood at the back door. Just as Eric promised, the door was unlocked, and he slipped inside. Muffled voices came from somewhere closer to the front of the house. One of them was Eric. They were in the library, starting his hour long session.

The back door led into a mudroom. The kitchen was to the left, and to the right was another door, probably the garage. Straight ahead was a hallway that went towards the front of the house. The right side of the hall was the stairs to the second floor, and there was a small door, probably a storage area. Most of the houses built in this community used every spare piece of space as a closet or some kind of cubby hole. As Aaron passed it, he noticed that it had a padlock. Odd, he thought to himself. Why would someone need to lock up a closet? For now he ignored it, and continued towards the office. He could see the door to the library where Alison and Eric were, and to the left of that room was probably the office. He would have to walk past the library in order to get to the office, though, and the library door were open. Aaron could look right in and see Alison sitting in her chair. This wasn't going to work, he thought, but just then, Eric made his way to the door.

"Do you mind if I close it?" he asked her. Eric's back was to Alison, and he looked frantically around outside of the room, searching for Aaron. Aaron moved his hand, and Eric saw where he was hiding. He looked relieved.

"It's just you and I here, Eric, if you're worried about privacy," Alison told him.

"I know, but it's just for peace of mind. I need to tell you something very personal about myself, so just in case someone stops by . . ."

"I'm not expecting anyone."

"I know you keep your front door unlocked. Anyone could stroll in," Eric said with concern.

"If it will make you feel better, then go ahead and close it," she agreed.

Eric moved slowly as he closed the door, blocking as much of Alison's line of sight as he could. It worked, and Aaron was finally inside the office. He'd heard Eric say that the front door was unlocked. That was his cue as to how to get out of the house. There wasn't much time, so Aaron got to work quickly.

There was a beautiful cherry desk and bookshelves to match it in the office. Someone important must have lived here once. The shelves were full of books, and Aaron noticed that a lot of them were law books. So it must have been a lawyer's house at one time.

Eric had told Aaron that Alison kept her appointment book locked in the drawer of the desk, and that he saw her open a box on the bookshelf to retrieve the key. Aaron crossed his fingers that he was right. There was an ornate silver box on the second set of bookshelves. He opened it and found a keyring with one small enough to belong to the desk drawer. Aaron tried it, and he was right, the drawer opened. Not bad, he thought to himself. Nailed it the first time. He couldn't help notice that there was a couple other keys on the keyring, and he wondered if one went to the padlock of the closet under the stairs. Not important, he reminded himself, and he took the appointment book from the desk drawer. The first several pages were townspeople that Aaron knew were not a threat, but as he continued on, he started to see names being repeated, sometimes as individual sessions, and sometimes as a group. One name showed up more than the rest, Pete. Another familiar name was Gerrard. He had been at Deanna's party the first time Rick and his people went to one. Gerrard never liked Aaron much. He definitely didn't like Daryl the first time they met, and he'd always been leery of Rick's people. Some of the other names were Gerrard's men or were they Pete's men?

"So what is it that is so secret you have to close the door?" Alison asked from the next room. Even in these expensive houses, the walls were thin, Aaron thought to himself.

It would have been easier to take a picture of the appointment book pages, but Aaron could spare it. Film was very scarce even before the outbreak with everything going digital. Now, cellphones and digital cameras were scarce because of lack of electricity for charging them, and most devices like that had been disposed of when cell towers went down. So it was back to the old days of using pen and paper. Aaron started copying part of Alison's schedule, writing as many names, times and dates as he could in the short amount of time he had. This would be proof that Gerrard and his buddies were gathering here to conduct their business in private.

In the next room, Aaron could hear Eric speaking in a soft low voice. He must have known the walls were thin. "It's been a while now, but it's still difficult to see him all the time," Eric confessed.

"Have you given any thought to what we discussed last time?" Alison asked.

"I don't think I can do it. I've never been very adventurous," Eric responded. "I keep hoping that he'll come around and remember what it used to be like. I … I still love him."

Aaron's heart went to his throat. Eric was talking about him to Alison. He didn't want to hear this, but he couldn't help it while he wrote down names. He noticed that Eric wasn't mentioning Daryl, thank goodness for that. Even after all this time, Eric was still respectful of Aaron's requests. He had asked Eric a while ago, when it first came out that Aaron was seeing Daryl, to keep it to himself. Aaron hung his head as he paused from his writing. Why did it have to happen this way? Eric was such a good person. He deserved something good, something wonderful. Aaron knew he was not that person. He was never good enough for Eric, not like Eric thought he was. He'd been willing to ignore the fact that he was not in love with Eric, and willing to settle. It wasn't difficult in the beginning. They got along well, watched out for each other, and kept to themselves most of the time. How could Aaron have known that love was still available to him in this world after everything that happened? Eric, he thought, was his last and only shot at not being alone. Aaron felt like a dick to put Eric in that very position, but there was nothing to do about it. He loved Daryl, not Eric. It couldn't be helped.

"I think it is the best case scenario for both of you, unless you really think there is a chance," Alison advised.

"No, there's definitely not a chance," Eric said sadly.

"You make it sound as though he has moved on. Are you saying he has found someone else in the community?" she asked.

"What? Uh, no … th-that's not … I didn't say that," Eric stammered nervously. Shit.

"Because if there is, you know you can tell me. Nothing goes beyond these walls, Eric."

"I-I didn't mean it like that. He's just moved on … you know … moved … on, life as usual and all that." Eric was trying to back pedal, but Aaron didn't think Alison was buying it.

"I know just about all the residents in town, and I'm pretty sure you and Aaron are the only gay men. But then, there are those people from the new group. They haven't been here long enough to get to know them very well."

Why was she trying to find out if there were other gay people in town? What did it matter? Aaron was confused. Alison never came across as a homophobe. She'd always been very friendly, never standoffish. So what was this sudden curiosity?

As Aaron considered this, he reached for the pencil to continue writing, and accidentally knocked a picture over. The conversation in the room next door stopped, and Aaron froze.

"What was–" Alison started to say, but Eric interrupted her.

"Could I have a glass of water, please? If it's not too much of an inconvenience?" Eric asked.

After a brief silent pause, she answered. "Of course."

Aaron hid behind the desk, and listened as Alison's footsteps led away towards the kitchen. Suddenly, Eric was calling him at a whisper from the doorway. "Aaron, you still in here?"

"Yes," Aaron answered.

"You got to leave. You've been here too long as it is," Eric demanded.

Aaron thought so too. He had enough names written down, and folded the paper, pushing it into his pocket. He closed the drawer and locked it back up, but as he did, he noticed the other keys, and remembered the locked closet beneath the stairs. One of the keys looked like it would go to a padlock. He needed to know what was in there.

"I need you to distract her just a little longer. I've got to go back and check something out, but I need to sneak past the library again," Aaron told him.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Eric asked at a panic.

"I don't know. Figure it out."

"You've got your names. Just leave through the front. The door's right there. She's in the kitchen. Go before you get us both in trouble," Eric pleaded.

"Just this one last thing and I'm out of here," Aaron said, staring into Eric's eyes. "Please."

Eric studied his face a moment. "Fine, but hurry," he agreed reluctantly.

Aaron went back behind the desk, and Eric went back into the library, waiting for Alison to return. She came back with his water and handed it to him.

"Now, where were we?" she asked. "Oh yes, we were talking about–"

"Where did you get this beautiful vase?" Eric chimed.

"It was already here when I moved into this house," Alison replied. "So, which one of Rick's people do you believe is–"

"This is an amazing find," Eric interrupted. "I have to confess that I am somewhat of an antiques buff. I've seen this design before, usually on cheap knockoffs, but this one … oh my word," he cooed.

"What is it?" she asked curiously, buying into Eric's act.

Aaron took that as his cue, and peeked out of the office. Alison's back was to the door, as she and Eric looked at some silly vase on the bookshelves at the back of the room. It probably was some knockoff of an original, but he knew Eric would play it up to keep Alison preoccupied. Aaron saw his chance and dashed to the back of the house where he came in. He had the set of keys with him, and when he got to the locked closet, he tried the first key, but that wasn't it. The second key didn't work either, but the third one did.

"Third time's a charm," he muttered to himself as he unlocked the padlock and slipped if from the door. He opened it and peeked inside the dark storage closet. "Oh my God," he whispered, finding the room under the stairs full of guns and ammo. "She's been stockpiling weapons."

Aaron took a quick visual assessment of the guns he saw so he could tell Rick. He closed the door and slipped the padlock back, but just then, Alison's voice sounded like it was coming towards him. Aaron laid the keys on a nearby decorative table to make it look like they were misplaced, and then he hurried to the back door and left. He scurried down the back steps and hid in a bush, keeping an eye on the back door. He saw Alison's silhouette through the window. She was looking out into the back yard. Did she hear him or see him as he was leaving? Aaron hoped not.

After she was satisfied that there wasn't anyone in her back yard, Alison's shadow grew smaller as she headed back to Eric. Aaron wasted no time and went to Rick's house to show him his find, and tell the group leader about the guns.

* * *

"That's odd," Rick said, looking over the list. "These people all had appointments close together. And sometimes they were grouped in sessions with Alison. It's always these same people, too."

Daryl stood next to Rick, studying the list too. He pointed at one name in particular. "It's that asshole, Gerrard."

"You know him?" Rick asked.

"We had a run in a while back, when we first arrived. He voiced his opinion right away that he didn't like us being here," Daryl informed him.

Rick's finger slid down the list and stopped at another name. "Pete," he said. His finger tapped the name aggressively.

The name made Daryl anxious. He dared a glance towards Aaron, and could see he was having the same reaction. Pete had seen them for a split second, hands connected as they stood between a couple vacant houses, having a private moment. Daryl knew they'd been too lax lately, a sign of weakness on his part. He didn't blame Aaron for it. He was used to being himself around people. But this time, the wrong person got a glimpse of their private life.

Rick's hand left the paper and curled into a fist. Daryl was surprised by his reaction, as though he took it personally. "You got dealings with Pete?" he asked.

"Just a bad vibe. We've had a couple mild run-ins. Nothing more," Rick answered.

"There's something else," Aaron said, drawing Rick and Daryl's attention. "Alison is keeping weapons."

"Weapons?" Rick asked aggressively.

"Yeah, rifles, handguns, shotguns, and enough ammo for all of them," Aaron informed.

Daryl looked concerned, but not so much about the weapons. "How'd you find this out?"

Aaron's hand went to the back of his neck. "I, uh, I saw them."

"You were in Alison's house?" Daryl said in a raised tone.

"I thought Eric got you these names," Rick questioned.

"He needed help. He couldn't do it alone, so while he was in a session with Alison, keeping her attention drawn, I snuck in."

"Where did you find the weapons?" Rick pushed.

"There's a storage area under the stairs that leads to the second floor. I noticed it was locked and thought that was strange, but I was there for names, you know. But when I noticed the group sessions and whose names were there, I needed to know what was behind that locked door. I found the key in her office, went back, and found the weapons. Now, I don't know how involved she is with all of this, but she's definitely helping the other side." As Aaron spoke to Rick, he couldn't help notice the look on Daryl's face as he stared at him. He wasn't happy to hear that Aaron was in Alison's house sneaking around.

"Did she see you?" Daryl asked.

"I don't think so."

"That was a risky move. You of all people don't need to be caught working with us. As far as anyone knows, you don't have a side," Daryl complained.

"It's all good, Daryl," Rick said. "Aaron got what we needed and then some."

"I just think he needs to be more careful, that's all," Daryl said. "Aaron is … he's important … to the group." He was frustrated that he couldn't express what he was really feelings about what Aaron did, especially without being there to keep an eye on things, but he calmed himself. "So what do we do now?"

"We watch the people on this list, find out what their routine is. Leave Pete to me, though," Rick answered. "If the guns Aaron found already belong to the others, we don't need them taking control over the weapons room. We need to do that. Someone has to talk to Deanna, and see about getting some authority over the distribution of those guns."

"I'll work on that," Aaron complied.

Rick gave a nod, and left his living room to go outside. At the same time, Carol came up to the porch. They spoke for a moment before Rick left. She came into the living room and found Daryl and Aaron standing at a table with the list in front of them. "Rick said you all found something?" she asked.

"Aaron got us a list," Daryl said. He pushed the paper towards her so she could read it. "Names of some people going to Alison." One thing had Daryl curious, mainly because of Rick's reaction. He pointed to Pete's name. "You know anything about him?"

Carol glanced at the paper and sighed. "Shit."

"What's going on?" Aaron asked.

Carol looked out the front window to make sure that Rick was gone. Carl and Caleb were out hanging with some of the other kids in town. No one else was home so it was safe to speak. "It's Jessie's husband, Pete."

"Yeah, I guessed that much since Rick had smoke coming out his ears when he saw the name," Daryl said. "Something you want to tell us?"

"We found out that Pete's been … abusing Jessie," she admitted cautiously.

"How do you know?" Aaron asked.

"I had my suspicions about Jessie. The way she acts sometimes threw up red flags. And then the other day, she had a bruise, said she fell. Typical abused wife excuses. I know all about it. But it was her youngest son, Sam, who confirmed it. He's been … coming by my house, asking for treats. The way he was behaving reminded me of my daughter when her father got rough with her. I asked him, and after some coaxing, he told me what was going on. Pete yells a lot, hits Jessie from time to time, and he's hit Sam too."

"Shit," Daryl mumbled. His hand came up and grasped the back of his neck. Then he looked up at Carol again. "What's this got to do with Rick?"

"I told him we have to stop Pete," she said.

"You can't get involved. It's not your problem," Daryl told her.

That upset her. "Bullshit. If you know something like this is going on, you do what you can to stop it. I wish someone had stopped Ed, but everyone turned their heads the other way. Wasn't until Shane beat the crap out of him that anyone stood up to Ed. God knows I couldn't have done it. He would have killed me. I see that same look in Jessie's eyes. There's nothing she can do for fear of Pete killing her."

"So what, you want Rick to arrest him? Shoot him?" Daryl challenged.

"Whatever it takes, yes," she answered. "Whatever he has to do to stop it."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Daryl warned. "I've seen Rick talking to Jessie when Pete's not around. I've seen him watching her when she didn't know it. Rick is interested in her."

Carol stuck her chin out pugnaciously. "I don't care. Rick is the only one who will actually do something."

"I thought we were supposed to be laying low, not raising anyone's eyebrows in our direction. Now you're telling me you've told Rick to go after Pete. How is that going to make us look? We're already being looked down upon for our involvement in this town," Daryl argued.

"I don't care. Jessie's in trouble, and someone needs to do something," Carol defended.

"She is someone else's wife," Daryl countered. He turned away in frustration. "Rick is not thinking clearly with it comes to Jessie. He's like a lion coming in to steal another's pride. This will lead nowhere good, I can tell you that."

"Pete is one of the others that wants to see us thrown out of Alexandria. For all we know, he's in charge of them. What if he's the one wanting to take over Deanna's position? Something has to be done," Carol continued to disagree.

"He's one name among the others. We don't know that for sure." Daryl kept arguing with Carol over Rick's involvement with Jessie and her husband. Things were getting heated between them when Aaron broke in.

"Carol," he said to get her attention. "They already have weapons. They're keeping them at Alison's house. I saw them. There's enough for a standoff, but I think they want control of every weapon. I think we might be facing a civil war within the town, and Pete might be their commander in chief. Last thing we need is for Rick starting something with him."

"But … Jessie–" Carol started, although she could see that she had the losing argument.

"We can help her, but we have to do this first, and it requires all of us to do our part," Aaron assured her.

"And stop pushing Rick or we'll all be in trouble," Daryl added.

"Well, I'm going home," Aaron announced. "Been too stressful of a day."

"I'll walk with you," Daryl said.

"You don't have to," Aaron tried to detour him.

"No, I think I do."

"I'll see you boys later. I'm going to keep an eye on Rick. I'll talk to him too," Carol said, and everyone went on their way.

Daryl and Aaron didn't say much as they walked along the road towards Aaron's house. They couldn't really get into any kind of serious conversation as long as they were in public. Daryl only mentioned things lightly.

"Not good news about Pete, is it?" he said.

"No, not at all. Are you sure he saw–"

"Very sure. Looked right at us," Daryl confirmed. "I don't know what to expect from him."

"Well, there's no use worrying about it right now. We've got bigger problems, like, how are we going to get control of the weapons room? I know Rick expects us all to do our part, but this is a huge task."

"There's Rosita, or maybe even Tara. She's doing better since her accident," Daryl suggested. "They've been laying kind of low on the radar, and neither one has really established a permanent job yet. Managing the weapons room just might fit their profiles."

"That's not a bad idea," Aaron agreed as they approached his house. They walked up the steps and onto the porch. It was a little more private here.

"Now, about you sneaking around Alison's house," Daryl started.

"Not this again," Aaron complained.

"This ain't no game," Daryl berated.

"You think I don't know that? If I hadn't taken a chance, we wouldn't have known about the weapons she's hoarding."

"That's the thing. I thought it was supposed to be Eric doing all the dirty work, and I come to find out that he's only playing lookout while you're doing all the dangerous stuff."

"There was no other way of doing it," Aaron said, defending his decision.

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "Or is it another case of you protecting him."

"That's not fair and you know it."

"It's always going to come down to that, though," Daryl said. "Now you see why I didn't want Eric involved. Something's going to happen, he's going to get in the way, and you're going to be there to save him."

"And what's wrong with that? Aren't we all supposed to be watching out for each other?" Aaron argued.

"I'm afraid it's going to get you killed, and I don't want to lose you, not because of someone else," Daryl admitted honestly.

Aaron closed the distance between them. "Hey, you're not going to lose me, ok? I'm with you now. That's it. That's all." They stood together a moment, looking at each other, confirming the connection between them, assuring each other through their eyes. Aaron was the first to break away. "You better get going. As usual, there's work to be done."

Daryl didn't answer at first. He nodded, agreeing with Aaron, but his feet wouldn't move. "I want to come in."

"You think that's smart? It's the middle of the day," Aaron tried to reject.

"I don't care," Daryl said, determined to have his way. He felt like throwing caution to the wind. What did it matter anymore? Pete had seen them holding hands. Nothing good would come of it, so why deny his need anymore. "Please."

Aaron studied him a moment. Daryl was in conflict. Jealousy, perhaps, or maybe it was whatever Alison stirred up with him when they spoke. Aaron couldn't turn him away, not now. He stepped to the side, silently inviting Daryl in. Daryl walked past him and entered the house. Aaron took a look around, but didn't see anyone. Then he too went inside, closing and locking the door behind him. "You want a beer or someth–" He didn't finish his sentence. As he turned to face Daryl, he was embraced, lips covering his own. Daryl was insistent, and Aaron wouldn't deny him.

"Upstairs," Daryl said softly.

"But–" Aaron tried to counter.

"I need this, ok? I need it to be just you and me right now," Daryl pleaded.

Aaron ran his hand through Daryl's hair. "Ok," he assured Daryl, as he pulled him in to kiss him gently. "Come on."

Aaron led the way upstairs and to his bedroom. He closed the door, though he didn't know why. Force of habit maybe. Daryl stood at the foot of the bed, seemingly lost to the world. "You ok?" Aaron asked, coming up behind him.

"I don't know what it is sometimes. I get so angry, and I just want to fight everyone. I try to push them all away, but I can't do that with you. If I push you away, there's nothing left, and I don't want that," Daryl confessed.

"I know what you're like. I know you need your space. But I also know you can't stay away for very long, not like you used to do. Haven't I always been willing to wait? Nothing has changed, Daryl. I'm here for the long haul." Aaron's hands rested on Daryl's waist. "You have nothing to worry about when it comes to us. No matter what happens, it will always be us."

Daryl turned to face Aaron, and he seemed like a child in need of the attention he never got. This whole thing with Eric must have weighed heavily on his mind. Aaron never meant for that to happen. He was only looking to do what was best for everyone. Maybe he should have been thinking more about Daryl and his concerns. After all, Daryl didn't want him doing this in the first place, working with Eric, inviting him into the group. Aaron went against Daryl's wishes without finding out the root of the problem. Now he knew. Daryl still saw Eric as a threat. He was worried that there wasn't enough solidity like there had been with Aaron and Eric. But there was. Things were more stable between Daryl and Aaron than there had ever been in the two years he was with Eric. Only Aaron knew that, though. Daryl hadn't been there. He couldn't really know. He needed to be shown, assured through physical means. That's why he was here now.

Aaron slid Daryl's vest from his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it back until it fell to the floor. He unbuttoned his own shirt, and lifted the undershirt over his head, throwing in carelessly to the ground. Aaron's hands roamed over Daryl's chest, the bristly hairs feeling quite erotic on his palms. He looked at Daryl's body, and his finger traced over the scars he'd seen many times. There was a rather ugly one on his side. "You never told me how you got this."

"Fell down a ravine and got impaled by my own arrow," Daryl answered.

"My God," Aaron said with concern, as though he could feel it himself.

"Back when Carol lost her daughter, and I was out looking for her, I had a little trouble."

Aaron smiled, "She told me about it, how you were the only one who wouldn't give up. You almost died."

"That's what she says," Daryl said defiantly. "I made it. Never thought I wouldn't."

"You're her … knight in shining armor," Aaron jested, but he meant it.

"Carol can take care of herself. She don't need no hero."

"It doesn't matter. You went above and beyond for her. It's your bond," Aaron pointed out. "It's like that for Eric, I think. There were times when I had to do that for him. It's his bond to me. I can't just ignore that. You wouldn't ignore Carol like that."

"But Carol isn't in love with me," Daryl said. "Eric still loves you, and whenever you go above and beyond, as you put it, it binds him to you even more."

"I guess I hadn't thought of it like that," Aarons said.

"No more talk about him. It's just you and me right now. Let's keep it like that." Daryl took off his belt and shoes. He unbuttoned his pants and sat on the end of the bed, waiting for Aaron to do the same. He watched Aaron get naked and stand before him. Then he got on his knees and helped Daryl out of his pants. When Aaron started to climb onto the bed, Daryl stopped him.

He had only let Aaron take him once, in the beginning, at the lake house. Aaron would never initiate it. He knew Daryl was still sensitive about it. Most of the time, Daryl couldn't go through with it anyways. To have someone control him in that way made his mind jump back to the bad time. But this was Aaron, he would tell himself. Aaron didn't control him. Aaron was a part of him when it happened. They took control of each other.

"Are you sure?" Aaron asked.

Daryl nodded and laid on his back. He reached for the bottle on the nightstand and handed it to Aaron. While Aaron prepped them, Daryl thought about Aaron admitting his love. Daryl couldn't return the words, but he felt it in his heart. He'd never said that to anyone in his life. Never his mother or father, of course, but never to his brother either, and he had loved him. It was different with Aaron, but he still couldn't come out and say it. The best he could do was to show him through trust, and to give himself to Aaron was absolute trust.

Aaron climbed on top of Daryl, and settled against him. They kissed and fondled, and after further prep, Daryl was ready. Aaron lined himself up, lifting himself to Daryl, who moaned at the expectation of what was to come. Like last time, Daryl was anxious for what was happening. It could invoke unpleasant memories of a time when this act was forced upon him. But it was Aaron, he repeated over and over in his mind. Aaron would take his time. He would make it good.

Aaron entered slowly, teasingly, allowing Daryl time to adjust. Daryl made himself not reject the ministrations Aaron put upon him. A little more and a little further, and then he was past that point. It started to feel good, as Aaron moved inside. And then he buried his face in Daryl's neck, letting out a moan of pure bliss. It really was good, Daryl told himself.

"Mmm, Daryl," Aaron said in a breathy whisper, his hips lifting and pushing forward slowly.

"Don't stop," Daryl answered, feeling his body give into all the sensations of having Aaron pulsating inside him.

"You feel so good," Aaron said. "I need more."

"Yeah," Daryl said, giving terse permission, and Aaron went deeper.

"You like that?" Aaron said, giving Daryl more, moving faster.

Daryl pushed his hips up as Aaron came down. "Fuck yeah." His legs wrapped around Aaron's middle.

They set their rhythm, the bed springs lightly creaking beneath them. Aaron lifted his body from Daryl to keep from crushing him with his weight. Daryl looked up and watched the pleasure on Aaron's face. That only made Daryl more excited to see this other man enjoying his body. Aaron's eyes opened, and he bent lower, kissing Daryl, capturing his moans. He went deep, pumping with short, quick thrusts, touching Daryl in that one spectacular place, hitting him again and again until he felt raw and exposed all over his skin, like the ocean crashing its waves upon him over and over until finally it swallowed him up, making his head spin. Daryl went rigid, his body unable to hold off any longer as he came, spilling between their bodies. He released a long held breath, finding some way to control his voice. Aaron went deep again, but held himself there. Daryl reveled in the feel of liquid warmth purling within, and listening to Aaron call out his pleasure. Then he collapsed on top of Daryl, his body spent of energy, his breathing hot and heavy upon Daryl's neck.

Daryl wondered how he had ever been scared to carry out this act of being the bottom. It was better the second time around, he thought, and knew he'd allow this switch in positions to happen a little more often. He could tell Aaron was definitely glad for the change, and that's what he really wanted, was to please Aaron. Daryl knew Aaron took this role most of the time with other lovers, mainly Eric, and although he changed that position of power for Daryl, it didn't always have to be that way. Daryl was feeling more confident about himself, and what he could handle.

Eventually, Aaron came to rest at Daryl's side, and both men laid there regaining their energy. Exhaustion overcame them, and they dosed for a while. When Aaron woke, it felt much later and he worried. "You better go. You've been here too long, and it's still daytime. Rick or one of the other's might be looking for you."

"Yeah, I should go, but you know … I don't think I want to," Daryl said defiantly.

"This really isn't a good time for–"

Daryl moved with stealth and rolled onto Aaron, pinning his hands to the mattress above his head. "Do you want me gone?"

Aaron looked into Daryl's seductive stare. "God no, never."

"Then I say fuck the world out there. I really don't give a shit if someone's looking for me. They'll find me tomorrow. Right now, I just want it to be you and me, because I'm not through here."

"Ok, who the hell are you, and what did you do with Daryl?" Aaron jested.

Daryl kissed him, ending it with a bite of Aaron's bottom lip. Aaron's hand, finally freed from Daryl's grip, slipped down and began kneading Daryl's half hardened cock. Daryl pushed himself into the other's palm, and moaned low and gravelly.

"You're definitely Daryl," Aaron said. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

"I'm gonna drive you, alright," Daryl said just before he took Aaron. He was back in control, and although he was ok with letting Aaron top, he really was much more comfortable this way. There was something about the power that coursed through his body when he had Aaron pinned beneath him, making his lover moan and cry out with ecstasy that boosted his libido. Daryl was responsible for everything Aaron was feeling. He could make it fast or slow, tease him or pound him. Right now, he wasted no time and set his rhythm. The good thing was that it took longer the second time. That was the challenge too. With muscles that were already complaining, Daryl had to ignore them and focus on his prize. Once he got Aaron well on his way it was his cries of passion the set Daryl into overdrive. Aaron was doing his part perfectly, writhing beneath him, moaning. Daryl himself was a very quiet lover, but what he didn't express vocally, he made up for in movement. His body language gave Aaron every clue as to how close he was to completion, and right now, he was on the verge. Daryl was deep inside Aaron, hips gyrating in a steady and quick rhythm, balls tightening, cock pulsating until finally he released what he'd been trying so hard to control. Daryl stilled, back arched, head tossed back, lips parted in silent rapture, but this time it was not enough to enjoy this by himself. Daryl collapsed on top of Aaron, and moaned into the warm flesh of his lover's neck, reveling in the last vestiges of his orgasm. The airy moan of satisfaction transformed into a breathy whisper, and for the first time, he spoke during their love session. "Aaron," he called out quietly, but his tone spoke volumes. He wasn't simply saying a name, it meant much more than that.

"I know you love me," Aaron whispered in return. "You won't say it, and I won't make you, but I know."

"How?" Daryl asked, still buried within his lover, a few jolts of electricity still coursing through his body.

"You wouldn't be here otherwise," Aaron answered.

Daryl kissed his neck. "Don't want to be anywhere else."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 Emerge**

Daryl and Aaron spent the entire night together. It worried Aaron that they did this. What if someone was looking for either of them? What if someone came knocking looking for Daryl, and here they were, naked, spent, and thoroughly satisfied in Aaron's bed? And then Aaron looked over at his lover, stretched luxurious and long, lying on his stomach with the sheet covering him from the hips down. Daryl's arms were tucked under his head, his face turned away from Aaron. His chest slowly expanded and contracted with every slumberous breath. There were several long white scars running along Daryl's back. Aaron had of course seen them before, but he'd never asked about them.

Curiosity overcame Aaron, and he reached out and traced the longest scar with his finger. It ran diagonally along Daryl's back from one side to the other. The touch woke Daryl, who jumped and rolled onto his side facing Aaron.

"How did you get those?" Aaron asked.

"My father," Daryl answered, his voice gravelly with sleep, as he laid his head back into the pillow.

Aaron knew he'd never be a father, would never experience fatherhood, but he couldn't understand how a grown man could do this to his own flesh and blood. "That's horrible."

"The first beating was bad enough, but when he hit me the second time, and I hadn't even healed yet … shit … I think I lost consciousness," Daryl said.

"How can you talk about it so easily?" Aaron wondered with disgust.

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know. That was just life in the Dixon household. You mouthed off, you got smacked. You didn't do something you were supposed to do, you got punched. You did both, you got the belt."

"You got the belt twice, though," Aaron pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I didn't do anything the second time. He just came home drunk and pissed off, and I happened to be home that night. The old man needed to take his aggression out on something, and Merle wasn't around then. That's when my brother went off and joined the military."

"And he just left you there," Aaron said, upset with a man he would never meet.

"What else was he supposed to do? It's not like we had other family. Our mother was dead, not that she'd do anything to stop it anyways." Daryl turned over, feeling more than just naked with his back exposed. He was always very careful not to let anyone see his back, accept for Aaron. Daryl was embarrassed by the scars. They made him feel belittled and weak. He could kill a thousand walkers. Hell, he could kill other men, but he couldn't defend himself against his own father. "It was a long time ago. Now, I'm the last one. Out of all of them, I'm still here, not them."

Aaron settled against Daryl's side. "Do you ever miss any of them?" he asked. "Well, not your father, I'm sure."

Daryl was silent a moment before he answered. He stared up at the ceiling, memories swirling around above his head, some good, some bad, some just horribly awful. "I miss my brother," he said quietly, as though he was afraid to admit it. "He was an asshole some of the time, and a pain in the ass most of the time, but he was all I really had back then." Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, thinking back to the last time he saw Merle. "He didn't deserve to die the way he did."

"You said he turned," Aaron mentioned.

"Yeah, but he was shot first, and the man that did it meant for him to come back as a walker, to roam around, just a rotting corpse looking for its next meal. It was kind of like a dishonorable death, you know, to purposefully kill someone just so he'd turn into the very thing he had been fighting against." Daryl shook his head. "He wasn't supposed to go alone, but he went anyways, and for the first time, he tried to do the right thing. Too little too late, though. You see, there was this guy, called himself The Governor, and–"

There was a very loud knock on the front door, loud enough that it resonated to the second floor bedroom with the door closed. "Shit," Aaron said in a panicked tone. He'd just been worrying about this very thing.

"Calm down," Daryl said, getting out of bed. "No one knows I'm here. Go answer it. I'll stay up here."

Aaron was already scrambling for a pair of pants, and hurriedly put them on. Daryl picked up a t-shirt and tossed it to him, but Aaron was already putting one. Daryl shrugged his shoulders and tossed the shirt onto the bed. That's when Aaron realized Daryl was standing there naked with someone ready to tear the front door down. He picked up the t-shirt and tossed it to Daryl.

"You need to get dressed," Aaron warned, looking around the room for the rest of Daryl's clothes.

Daryl, who was not the least bit distressed, laughed. "Don't worry about me. Just go answer the door." He watched Aaron nod and leave the bedroom, but then turn back.

"Don't leave this room," Aaron commanded, and then dashed off.

Daryl was still laughing to himself as he casually stepped into his pair of boxer briefs. A pair of Aaron's pajama bottoms was draped across a chair, so he put those on. Then he went to the door to listen.

Aaron rushed down the stairs. Whoever was at the front door was being very impatient, banging with their whole fist instead of the customary knock of the knuckles. Something must be happening, Aaron thought to himself, and wondered who was outside and why. He separated the wood blinds that covered the side window, and peeked out. It was Eric. Aaron unlocked the door and opened it. "Eric, what are you–"

"They got your place too," he rushed to say.

"Who got what?" Aaron said, confused.

"Look," Eric said, moving to the side and pointing towards the road. Aaron stepped outside his front door and stood at the top of the porch stairs. Written in florescent orange spray paint, glowing in the sun like a neon sign, the word 'FAGGOT' stared up at him from the sidewalk, with two arrows pointing towards his house. Aaron was shocked to see it at first, but that feeling only lasted a moment. It wasn't the first time someone pulled a childish prank like this.

"Same thing happened at my house," Eric said, but his voice sounded rather shaky.

"It's probably just kids," Aaron told him.

"I don't know. Doesn't this worry you?" Eric was still looking at the sidewalk.

"You would think it wouldn't matter anymore, now that we're smack in the middle of an apocalypse, but unfortunately, there's still people out there that just want to make fun of us because we're different."

"I think it's something more than that this time around." Eric brought his attention back to Aaron. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, I don't know if that's a good–" Aaron started to reject.

"Please," Eric begged. Clearly he was frightened more than he should be.

Aaron hesitated a moment, ready to tell Eric to go home, but he couldn't let him go like this, not while he seemed so upset. Aaron nodded reluctantly and pushed the door open in invitation. Eric smiled nervously and went inside. Aaron followed, looking past Eric to see if they were still alone. They were. Daryl was still upstairs. Hopefully he would stay up there and keep quiet.

"So, you said someone did this at your house?" he asked. Aaron knew for a fact that they'd both had to put up with insults like this throughout their lives. He didn't understand why Eric was so frazzled. Worse things had happened to them in the past.

Eric went to the living room, nodding in reply. "Yeah, orange paint, arrows pointing at my front door." As he spoke, he went to the wall and observed the license plates hanging there. It was a hobby they both started when they used to go recruiting together. It helped to pass the time when they were looking for survivors. They tried to collect one from every state, but they never finished it. Some places were almost impossible to find.

"I see you found Vermont," Eric commented. "You still collect them," he said sentimentally.

"Yeah, didn't seem right to stop after we'd found so many. Still haven't found Alaska though," Aaron said.

Eric was smiling as he observed the plates. "That one is impossible to find. If you ever–" As Eric was talking, he turned to Aaron, but his sight went past him to the stairs off the kitchen, and his smile faded as his words ended abruptly.

Aaron closed his eyes before he turned around. He should have known Daryl wouldn't listen. There he stood in the threshold wearing Aaron's pajama bottoms, barefoot and no shirt, handsome as fuck with his long hair parted on the side, and half his bangs covering one eye, very sultry eyes narrowed with jealousy as he focused them on Eric.

He tilted his head up, pointing with his chin. "Sup," was all he said in greeting.

"Hey … uh … Daryl," Eric replied like a man who knew he was interrupting something.

Aaron gave Daryl a perturbed glare, but he knew it would do no good. Daryl was enjoying this moment, posturing for Eric, as though to say, 'he's mine now, back off'.

"Seems as though someone has left me a message out on the front sidewalk. They left one for Eric too," Aaron said.

Daryl went to the front door and looked through the wooden blinds. He saw the derogatory word sprayed on the sidewalk, and felt anger simmering just below the surface. He let the blinds snap back into place. "Aaron's probably right, just some kids with too much time on their hands, and not enough discipline. I'll tell Rick about it. We'll get someone here and to your house to clean this up," he said to Eric

"I really don't think this was kids," Eric said, talking to Aaron and not Daryl.

"How can you be so sure?" Aaron asked.

"I don't know. I'm just getting a bad vibe about this place lately," Eric said, averting his eyes from Daryl's bare chest. "I'm sorry I barged in on you like this. I … didn't know you, uh, had company."

Daryl ignored Eric's apology and stepped into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. Then he leaned on the island. "You have any run-ins lately? Anyone on that list Aaron got giving you trouble?"

Eric shook his head. "I haven't spoken to any of them in some time. They keep to themselves or their people lately. There's been no trouble."

"What about Alison?" Daryl went on with his line of questions. "She been acting suspicious?"

"No, our sessions have been the usual."

Aaron looked at Daryl, asking for permission to fill Eric in on their findings. Daryl understood and nodded subtly for Aaron to go ahead. "We, uh … we have reason to believe Alison is somehow involved with the others, Pete, Gerrard … the other men on the list."

Eric shook his head in disbelief. "Not Alison."

"I found a stockpile of weapons in her house that day I snuck in. We don't know how involved she is, but she's definitely helping them," Aaron informed.

"Then maybe they're forcing her or something. Alison has been very helpful for me. I refuse to believe she would be involved with this," Eric said, his anger getting the best of him. He glared across the room at Daryl. "This is all your fault, you know … you and your people. There was calm. There was peace before you showed up. And then you came and turned everything upside down."

"Peace and calm is not permanent in this world now. Eventually chaos ensues. You're people are living in some fake utopia. Alexandria Safe Zone, they call it. Makes you think nothing can happen here. I've seen enough to know safety is temporary. You have to constantly be thinking ahead of the game. You get caught off guard and you're dead," Daryl warned.

"You all are the ones that brought the chaos. Maybe that's why you've never found a place to call home. You all are like a plague. Did you ever think of that? How many other people have you encroached upon and tore their lives apart?" Eric argued.

"And yet it's one of your own people who wrote that shit out there," Daryl countered. "You all are outsiders too, just like me and my people."

"I was fine with that," Eric said in a raised tone. "They left us alone, but they let us live here. They gave us a job. We contributed. We kept to ourselves. We didn't start accusing people of stuff that didn't concern us anyways. You and Rick and the rest of your group, you go into a place and take it over. You want everyone to bend and conform to your way of thinking. Well, Alexandria doesn't need you."

Aaron reached out and took Eric's arm to reign him back in. "Eric, listen, it's–"

"No, don't you lecture me. You know I'm right. We had it good before these people came along. They tricked us, and I'm partly to blame. I trusted them. When we observed them, they seemed like a good group, but it was all an illusion. I didn't see what was simmering below the surface. We shouldn't have brought them here. We should have left them out there." Eric pulled away from Aaron and stormed out the front door. Aaron started to follow.

"Where you going?" Daryl said, stopping him.

"To talk to him," Aaron replied with anger, chasing after Eric. Before he opened the door, he looked back. "I told you to stay upstairs," he berated before he went outside.

Eric was descending the stairs when Aaron stopped him. "Eric, wait."

Eric stopped and turned back to face him. "I don't understand what you see in him. He's an asshole."

He should have been upset at that comment, but it actually made Aaron laugh. "Well, I suppose sometimes he is, but he's only looking out for what best for this community."

Eric's shoulders slumped in defeat, his whole demeanor changing instantly. "Aaron, I can't do this again, the insults, the fear … I can't. At least, before, they left us to ourselves. They tolerated us. I was ok with that. But this," he pointed to the sidewalk. "I just can't."

"What are you saying?" Aaron asked, concern for Eric quite evident.

Eric looked around, checked the front door to make sure Daryl wasn't listening from the window. "There's a rumor going around that there's another safe zone, another community."

"What?"

"It could mean a fresh start, a place where we'll be accepted again," Eric said with enthusiasm.

"It's just a rumor. You have no proof that this place exists."

Eric took Aaron's hands and pleaded. "Let's go together, Aaron. Let's leave this place. It's getting caustic here. Things are going to break down, and that's just the beginning," he said, gesturing to the spray painted slur.

"We can't leave, not on a hunch. I can't leave. I don't want to. That isn't enough to scare me off. I've dealt with that kind of rhetoric my whole life. My own mother couldn't accept who I was, and you think I give a shit what some people in Alexandria think?"

"You're only staying because of Daryl," Eric said sadly.

"I'm staying because Alexandria is worth fighting for. I'm not running away anymore. It's what I used to do. I ran from my mother, ran from friends, tried to live a life that just wasn't me. Not anymore. The people here know who and what I am, and if they have a problem with it, then they are the ones who have to go this time, not me … and not you either."

"But what about–" Eric started, knowing he would lose the argument.

"Don't go, Eric. It's too dangerous, and I … I couldn't stand for something to happen to you. Hey, I know things have become rather stretched. It's been difficult finding common ground between us again, but I genuinely want you around. We've been through too much together to forget that it ever existed. I need your friendship, and you know you have mine. So please, for me, stay."

Eric searched his eyes, and after a long silent pause, nodded. "Alright. Alright, I'll stay."

"Good," Aaron smiled. "We'll take care of this mess, sort things out, and I promise you that we'll get to the bottom of this. The whole town is not against us, only a few. I'll go to Deanna. She won't put up with this kind of behavior. It will all work out."

When Aaron went outside, Daryl went upstairs and got dressed. He knew Aaron would be pissed that he came downstairs while Eric was there, but he didn't give two shits. The guy needed to see with his own eyes that there was a serious relationship between Aaron and himself. He needed to start standing on his own two feet, man up, and stop running to Aaron every time he had a problem. There were other people in this town that would help him.

Daryl heard hurried footsteps pounding up the stairs, and then the door flew open. Aaron's brows were furrowed, not good.

"What the hell, Daryl? I thought I said to stay put," Aaron complained.

"Not like he doesn't know about us," Daryl said casually, sitting on the foot of the bed as he put his boots on.

"You were rubbing it in," Aaron accused. He came into the room and stood in front of Daryl. "You know this used to be his house too. How would you feel if you were in his shoes?"

Daryl stood quickly and was in Aaron's face in a second. "That ain't gonna happen," he said in a low gravelly tone. His eyes narrowed, drilling into Aaron's.

"You seem awfully confident," Aaron said.

"I am and you know why?" Daryl said dangerously.

Aaron swallowed hard. "Why?" his voice squeaked.

Daryl lunged and caught Aaron with his arms, holding him tight against his own body. "'Cause you're mine now, and I ain't about to give you up. You're with me and that's all he needs to know. So he saw it. He needed to. Time for him to move on." Daryl captured Aaron's lips roughly, kissing him solidly, grinding his hips. He could feel Aaron give in, becoming languid in his arms, melting into his kiss. Not until he was sure Aaron had given in completely did he release him, leaving him breathless. Aaron's eyes slowly opened, lips still parted. He looked like he wanted more, wanted to shed his clothes off and have another go at it between the sheets. Daryl smiled wickedly, making Aaron think he was about to agree to that. And just when he had him where he wanted him . . . "I gotta go," he said.

"Wh-what? Now?" Aaron asked with disappointment.

"Day's getting underway. Things to do. Need to talk to Rick, get that shit cleaned off the sidewalk."

"W-wait for me. I want to go with you," Aaron said, coming around after being seduced by Daryl.

"I'll be downstairs," Daryl said, and started to the door. He stopped and smacked Aaron's ass. "Hurry it up."

He left and Aaron breathed deep, feeling the lack of oxygen. "Why does he have to be so fucking sexy," he complained to himself.

* * *

Daryl and Aaron were coming around the corner, going towards Rick's house, when they ran into Carol. She looked concerned. Daryl knew that look all too well. It meant something had happened. "Where the hell have you two been?" she complained. Daryl gave her a sly smile. Aaron cleared his throat and wouldn't look her in the eye. Carol shook her head. "Never mind."

"What's going on?" Daryl asked.

"Nothing good," she said walking away, expecting them to follow her.

"Where we going?" Daryl wondered as he and Aaron trailed behind her.

"If you had been home, you might have been able to catch whoever did it," she told him.

"Did what?" Aaron asked, worry tinging his words again. He had a bad feeling.

They were approaching Daryl's house, and he could see Rick standing out front. And then Daryl caught a glimpse of orange paint. "Aw, fuck," he murmured.

Rick looked up and saw Daryl coming. He went towards him to meet him before seeing what Daryl already knew was on the sidewalk. Rick put his hand up as though he needed to brace Daryl first. "Now, don't go flying off the handles," he warned.

Daryl went past Rick, who turned and continued walking next to Daryl. They stopped at the bright orange slur with arrows pointing at Daryl's house. "This is clearly just someone wanting to get you agitated so you'll start something," Rick said.

"No it's not," Daryl said quietly, still looking at the word.

"What are you talking about?" Rick asked.

"Same thing happened at Aaron's house."

Aaron stepped forward. "Yeah, we were just coming to tell you."

Rick looked back and forth between them. "You too?" Rick wondered. "Well, they know you two work together. Maybe their trying to–"

"Same graffiti was sprayed at Eric's house too," Daryl said. It was after this statement that he slowly lifted his head to look Rick in the eye. Rick didn't get it at first. Daryl could see him trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

"Is this about getting those names from Alison?" Rick wondered aloud.

Daryl didn't answer. His eyes shifted to Carol, who came up to stand next to Rick. She looked at him sympathetically, knowing his secret was about to become known to his close friend. He could deny it, say it was just someone getting back at him. That would be believable enough. But there was the fact that too many people knew already … Carol, Eric, Caleb … Pete. Now there was this neon sign pointing towards his home, Aaron's home, and Eric's too, all three gay men in Alexandria. Daryl wasn't ready for this. How could he just come out and tell Rick? How would Rick begin to understand? Maybe he felt the same way as some of the other people. Maybe he would disown him, kick him out of the group, never trust him again. It was such a huge risk, but it would also be a huge weight lifted from his shoulders.

"Daryl?" Rick said again when there was no answer.

Aaron stepped in front of Daryl. "Uh, yeah, it's possible someone could have seen me that day. They know Daryl and I are friends and work together. Maybe they're trying to put a wedge between us, cause a disturbance with the group. It could be a whole bunch of things, really. Hard to pinpoint just one, you know." Aaron rambled nervously, but Rick's gaze never left Daryl. He wasn't wanting an answer from Aaron. He was wanting one from Daryl. It would be the only answer he would accept.

"It's not about the names," Daryl said quietly. "It's a personal attack."

"I can see that for myself," Rick said.

"Look at the pattern. Eric … Aaron … me."

Rick shifted from one foot to the other. "What are you saying, Daryl, that your … your–"

"I'm gay," Daryl said so quietly he almost couldn't be heard.

Rick was speechless. He continued shifting, like he so often did when he was trying to come to terms with something. He'd look at the paint on the sidewalk, and then look at Daryl.

Daryl kept his eyes narrowed, hiding behind his long locks of hair. Saying those words out loud was the hardest thing he'd had to do in a long time, but not getting a response, good or bad, from Rick was even worse. "Want me to go, I'll go," he said.

"What? Go?" Rick shook his head, still processing what Daryl just admitted to. "No, of course not. It's just," he stammered. "Wait a second. S-so you're … you're … When did this happen?"

"It doesn't just happen," Aaron said from beside Daryl, prepared to defend him at any cost.

Daryl glanced sideways, and put his hand out to Aaron to stop him. "I got this." He came back to look at Rick. "I've always been this way. I've just been good at hiding it."

"Well, I'm … I'm, I'm … shocked. I mean, I'm not mad. I'm just … I-I didn't see it coming." Rick turned to Carol, remembering she was there, looking to see what her reaction was. Carol smiled sweetly like she usually did, hiding any trace of emotion other than kindness. "Did you know?" he asked, waiting for her to be just as surprised, but she nodded, the smile never fading from her motherly face.

"Oh yeah, known for a while now," she answered.

"You never said anything."

Carol shook her head. "It wasn't my place to say anything." She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. "Actually, it wasn't that big of a shock to me. I guess I always kind of suspected it."

Rick still looked lost and confused, words escaping him. Carol rolled her eyes. "Come on Rick, when's the last time Daryl hooked up with a woman? When have you ever seen him flirt with a woman?"

"Well, I've seen the two of you together most of all. I guess I assumed that–"

"Oh please," she said, and then turned to Daryl. "No offense, pooky," she jostled.

"None taken," Daryl answered. "So there it is, and now that it's out there, what does this mean for me?"

"What does it mean?" Rick responded. "It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't change anything. I was just kind of … thrown off. I never would have suspected it, not that there's anything wrong with it."

Daryl nodded, but he looked at Aaron for a moment, as though asking for permission. Aaron gave a quick nod in return, answering his question. It was that unspoken connection they shared that made their relationship such a strong one. "One more thing," Daryl said, turning his attention back to Rick. He cocked his head towards Aaron as he spoke. "Me and Aaron–" That's as much as he would say.

For a split second, Rick waited for Daryl to finish his sentence, but then he realized what Daryl was saying. Rick slowly and over exaggeratedly nodded. "Ok." He stopped and considered both of them, eyes shifting back and forth between Daryl and Aaron. "Um … congratulations?" he said, and shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Nothin'. You ain't gotta say nothin'. Alright, so, what about this shit?" Daryl said, moving on with the situation at hand. He was collectedly calm as he gestured to the sidewalk.

"We need to notify Deanna first. She'll want to know. As far as who did this, well, unless I find the smoking spray can . . ." Rick said. "Could be kids, most likely. But then again, it could be an attempt to set Daryl off on a tangent, get us in trouble again like last time with the weapons room."

"Not that shit again," Daryl complained.

"I'm just saying," Rick commented as he started walking around the front yard looking for anything out of place. "Why? What do you think?"

"I don't think it was kids. And if it was just to get me angry, I don't think Aaron or Eric would have been included. Actually, I think it was someone making a statement."

"What makes you say that?" Rick wondered.

Daryl's hand nervously went to his hair, finger running over the top of his head to come to rest at the back of his neck. Aaron knew what he was thinking and spoke up in his place. "We think someone might have seen us talking … alone, together."

"That doesn't seem like it would be enough for someone to attack you like this," Rick said.

Aaron's face flushed a few shades darker than usual as he talked about him and Daryl as a couple for the first time. "We'd had an argument. I was going on a run with Glenn, and I stopped to talk to Daryl, you know, not wanting to go out there while leaving unfinished business in here … just in case," he rambled. "Anyways, we were having a private conversation away from eyes and ears, when someone walked by and–"

"Pete saw us holding hands," Daryl blurted out. He glanced sideways towards Aaron. "You take too long, man."

"Sorry," Aaron said sheepishly.

Carol smiled. "Aren't they cute?"

"Stop," Rick and Daryl said in unison.

Daryl took back the conversation. "It was real quick, but Pete looked right at us. Then he looked me right in the eyes, and … something just wasn't right about him."

"Yeah, Pete's … got problems," Rick said with venom in his tone.

"They know about Jessie and Sam," Carol spoke up. "They know about the abuse."

Rick nodded. "Well, now that we're all on the same page, first thing is to go to Deanna with this. She needs to know that someone is displaying hostility towards other members of this community. I'll start investigating some of the people on the list that Aaron got for us, starting with Pete."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Carol asked him.

"I'm the one wearing the uniform," Rick said in defense. "This is the job Deanna has entrusted to me."

"You know what I'm talking about," Carol accused.

Daryl and Aaron didn't say anything, but they too knew what was going on. Rick had been getting too close to Jessie, Pete's wife. Knowing what was going on in their family, Rick saw this situation with the graffiti as an invitation to confront Pete. Things could get heated very quickly unless someone was there to make sure it remained civil between these two alpha males. But after a tense pause, Rick agreed to go to Deanna with Daryl and Aaron.

* * *

"I can't have this kind of behavior here," Deanna responded after she learned about the vandalism. Rick, Aaron and Daryl stood in her living room, waiting to see what she wanted to do about the situation. "I think there should be a town meeting. We'll discuss this, make everyone aware so that people will be watching."

"You're not going to find out who did it that way," Rick said.

"I'm giving them a chance to make things right on their own. Will they step forward and confess? Probably not. Most people will not agree with what happened. We come from all different walks of life in this community. We have to get along. We have to stick together if we want to beat this and survive. Alexandria is not called a safe zone for nothing, and everyone here should feel safe, but especially from each other. If there is someone amongst us who can't live peacefully within our town, then they need to move on from here. I won't tolerate bullying." Deanna went to her window and looked out over the town. "We'll do this tonight at our gathering place, the square."

Everyone agreed and started to leave after discussing what to do, but Daryl stayed behind, waving Aaron on to go with Rick. He waited until they were gone before speaking to Deanna.

"So," she started when they were alone. "This is news. I had no idea."

"And I'd like to keep it quiet, if that's possible. I don't like everyone knowing my business," Daryl said.

"That's understandable. I'll try my best. I won't mention the names, just the fact that it's happened."

"I appreciate it," Daryl said with relief.

"And as far as your punishment for the weapons room . . ." she continued.

"I'm really sorry about that," Daryl apologized.

"You're no longer banned." Deanna smiled slightly. "Caleb tells me you're teaching him how to shoot, hunt and track."

"Yes ma'am, I am. He's coming along nicely. Got a steady arm and an eye for tracking."

"He speaks very highly of you. You are a big influence on him, another reason you have to pay attention to what you do and think before you act. Caleb is learning more than hunting from watching you. He's learning to be a man."

"I, uh, hadn't thought of it that way," Daryl admitted.

Deanna walked around him, slowly. "I've seen a change in you since you first came to Alexandria. I see someone who showed up here reluctantly, did everything possible to remain an outsider. I didn't think you were going to stay, but I didn't know how close you were to the rest of the people in your group."

"I wouldn't have gone unless they did," Daryl confessed. "But when I arrived here, I was in a bad place. I think we all were. We were pushed to our limits. We were untrusting of everyone we came in contact with, like wild animals when they're trapped. But we see now what great potential this place has. We all want to be here. We all want to protect this town. We've run out of options. This place has to work for us."

"Yes, I see that now. I am glad Aaron brought you all here. This place needs each and every one of you. And just so you know, I'm not blind, Mr. Dixon. I know there are people within this place who don't agree with the job I've been doing, yet they stay anyways, because being out there is not an option for them."

"They don't really know what it means to be out there and survive, but we do. We don't want to take over, but putting us in charge of certain aspects of the town will only increase your security. And we don't want to take on that responsibility alone. We want to teach, pass on our knowledge. It will take all of us, the whole town to make this a place not only safe, but a place to grow and prosper. Isn't that what you want?" Daryl paused and thought of something Hershel always used to say. "We all got jobs to do." He knew it should probably be Rick having this conversation with Deanna, but he was here anyways, and she was listening.

"I couldn't agree more," she replied with a smile. "Alright, I know what needs to be addressed tonight, and we'll get to the bottom of things."

Daryl nodded and excused himself. Tonight would be an interesting meeting, one he was nervous about.

* * *

Many, though not all, townspeople gathered for the meeting. Daryl stood next to Rick and the rest of his group, while Aaron stood on the opposite side of the fire pit where they met for such things. The two made a point not to stare at each other, trying to stage themselves separately. Then, Eric emerged from the crowd and stood next to Aaron. Daryl watched as they acknowledged one another with kind smiles, Eric's seemingly a bit more enthusiastic, as he always was when Aaron paid attention to him. Daryl tried to curb his emotions, and on the outside he was calm and unnoticing, but inside he was seething. He knew he shouldn't feel like this. Aaron made it clear that he wasn't interested in Eric in the lease, but it wasn't Aaron he was concerned about. Eric had a way of making Aaron sympathetic towards him. Daryl wasn't buying it, but Aaron always gave Eric the benefit of the doubt.

At the last minute, Pete surfaced at the edge, getting a front row view of the evening's discussions. Gerrard and a few other of his men appeared next to him, not even bothering to spread out. Their sight fell upon Daryl, Rick and the other people of their group. Daryl wondered if anyone else felt the tension, but then again, no one knew what brewed just below the surface of this seemingly peaceful town.

Deanna started the discussion the latest idea of making Alexandria larger. With more people coming in, they wanted to start an expansion project that would incorporate more of the old neighborhood into the current. First they would wall off an abandoned section and fix up any houses within. Those houses would be wired into the generator system, and when they were habitable, they would become available for new residents. Everyone seemed to agree with the expansion idea, but some questioned it. More houses meant having to upgrade the current generators or add to them in order to support the growth. Alexandria wasn't quite maxed out yet. There were still quite a few empty houses, but as more people were recruited, it would eventually come to a point where they would have to expand or stop taking in new people. And, more hands on board meant they would be able to carry out this plan. It would take some time to finish one expansion, adding just a few houses. This was something that needed to be decided now so that they could go forward with the project and stay a few steps ahead of demand.

They discussed a few other matters, and finally it was time to address the recent problem. Deanna mentioned the graffiti, and only said that offensive words scrawled on the sidewalk in front of certain homes, but she never said whose homes or what the words were. Some people knew, people who lived close to Aaron and Eric and had seen it. Pete and his men knew, of course, and they looked on with smug faces, glancing at Aaron and Eric from time to time. Only Pete would look at Daryl, not the other men. Daryl kept his eyes on Pete, too, never backing down, never being the first to look away.

"Now," Deanna continued. "This kind of behavior will not be tolerated. We are all a part of Alexandria no matter who we are or where we come from. No matter the color of your skin, no matter your religion or your beliefs, we are one within this community. We have come together to live, to survive, to rebuild, and to hope for a better future."

People mumbled amongst themselves, but the overall compliance was the same, tolerance was a must. Daryl kept his sights on Pete and his men, the only ones not nodding their heads and agreeing. Gerrard took a step out from the crowd and spoke. "Aren't you going to tell us whose houses were involved?" he asked condescendingly.

"Son of a bitch already knows," Daryl muttered under his breath, and Rick nudged him in warning.

"That is not up for discussion," Deanna defended, but the voiced prattled on, and spread like fire through the crowd.

It reached Aaron and Eric's ears quickly, as sets of eyes fell on them one by one. They heard their names, and a few repeated the offensive word. Soon the crowd was abuzz. Daryl watched from the other side, saw the crowd talking as though Aaron and Eric weren't there, and waited to hear his own name mentioned, but it never came.

Carol leaned against Daryl's back and whispered in his ear. "No one knows about your house. We took care of it right away." That was probably because Daryl lived at the very end of a road, with vacant houses between his and Rick's house on one side, and the wall as his neighbor on the other. Anyone down on that end of the street would have to be there deliberately.

He nodded to let Carol know he heard her, and she wrapped her arm around his waist as though to protect him. The murmurs continued, but they began to die down. Then, Aaron spoke up, putting an end to the guessing. "Seems there are no secrets in Alexandria," he said, smiling nervously. "So to answer all the questions floating around, yes, it was my house and also Eric's."

Eric, Daryl noticed, looked like he wished to disappear into a crack in the concrete where he stood. It was very obvious that Eric did not like confrontation, and Daryl wondered how he ever managed to be a recruiter.

"And as everyone knows," Aaron continued. "And as it was so blatantly written in orange paint, a word I'll not repeat, we are gay. Why this is an issue is beyond me. We keep to ourselves. We contribute to the work that needs to be done around here in order to keep Alexandria a safe zone. Eric and I brought quite a few of you into Alexandria. But here we are, in this day and age, even with all the horrors happening just on the other side of those walls, having to defend ourselves and our lifestyle."

A few people gave their supporting opinions, and a few their opposing. Most remained silent and listened to them. Daryl watched, seeing them divide already, purely on an opinion. What would happen when it became about who was in charge of what and why? "And so it begins," he said to Rick.

"Someone deliberately did this to begin the division, us against them," Rick mentioned.

Suddenly, Pete stepped forward. "Now, Deanna," he called out and everyone hushed to hear him. "You said Alexandria is our hope for the future."

Deanna gave Pete her full attention. "Yes, that is what I said."

"So, let me ask you what you mean by that," Pete said.

"I'm not sure I understand," Deanna countered.

"What kind of a future are we talking about?"

Deanna was confused by his line of questioning. "I think that's obvious, Pete. We want a safe place to live where we can rebuild what we once had. We can expand the walls, bring in more people, and get back to life as we knew it."

"That should also include growing the community we already have … from within." Pete glanced at Aaron and Eric as he went on. "That's something they don't have the ability to do." Now he glared at them both. "It's because of people like them that the world went to hell. People living in sin, turning from God, and so he turned from us." Pete switched his attention towards Rick and his people. "Men sleeping with other men," he said towards Daryl. "Others committing adultery," he said while eyeing Rick.

Rick took a step forward, but Daryl put his hand in front of him. "That's what he wants, Rick. Don't let him get to you."

Jessie stepped up next to her husband and took his arm. "Pete, that's enough. Please."

"Go home, Pete," Deanna commanded, knowing he was probably drunk again.

"You need to address the real issues. You've let in murders, adulterers, sodomy, and who knows what else. And now they are your supervisor, your constable, your recruiters. They're teaching your children, cooking your meals. You've let in the very thing that God is punishing us for." Pete's ire rose with every word. Some people were yelling at him, telling him to leave. His men stood by silently and let him rant. Other people nodded in agreement. The town was beginning to divide.

And then, Alison appeared, smiling at Jessie with sympathy and taking Pete's free arm. "Let's get you home, big guy, ok?" she said in a calming manner.

"But I'm not through," he complained.

"Yes, you are. You've gotten you point across. Now let it sink in for everyone, alright?" Alison coaxed Pete through the crowd, and they disappeared while Deanna got the meeting back in control.

"Maybe I should go," Rick said. "Make sure nothing happens."

"That's the worst possible thing you could do right now," Carol said, stopping him.

"That's exactly what he wants," Daryl said. "That's why he called us all out. I'm telling you, man, this guy is poison." As he was speaking, his sight went across the way to Aaron. He was talking to Eric. It looked like he was trying to make him stay. Eric seemed irritated, as though he didn't want to be there. Who could blame him? Things had gotten a little heated, but Deanna was settling everyone.

"I don't care what he thinks. He's wrong," she was saying. "This community is here for everyone willing to contribute in any way they are fit to do so. We have a good group of people within Alexandria."

Daryl tuned her out when he saw Aaron coming over to him. He looked concerned. "You guys alright?"

"Yeah," Daryl answered. "You?"

"I'm fine," Aaron said, but something was obviously bothering him.

"Eric?" Daryl inquired.

"He's going home. Too much excitement for one evening. It's just Pete. He makes Eric nervous," Aaron told him.

"I think we found our lead man," Daryl said. "He's the one organizing the other side, especially with all that shit he's been spewing out."

"He's not working alone," Rick said. "Pete's a drunk. You saw that for yourself tonight. There's no way he's managing to organize a group of others on his own. He's got help."

"He's got all kinds of help from his men. You saw them. They surrounded him tonight," Aaron pointed out. "He's setting up the plan and handing out instructions to the rest of his guys."

"Man, I used to know guys like Pete. They can get a group together, run it for a while, make a few decisions, but they always crash and burn. They turn to the booze to justify what they're doing, drown in alcohol and forget the pain, but they can't lead for long."

"It's obvious," Carol added to the conversation. "He's got a personal agenda invested in this. We are a threat to his plans. He knows were strong. He sees that we could very easily take over this place, but we aren't. I think that's making him nervous."

"We got to get him out of here," Rick said, eyes focused on the last place he saw Pete.

"We can't," Carol told him. "You think Deanna is going to evict the town doctor? And what about Jessie and her boys?"

"They won't go. Jessie wouldn't risk her sons' safety," Rick argued.

"Wanna bet?" Carol countered. "I've been down that road. She won't leave him, Rick, no matter what you are thinking, no matter what you are hoping. She's scared of him, and if he gets kicked out, you can bet your ass she's going with him."

Daryl could see the realization on Rick's face as he thought about the consequences. Shit, he had it bad for Jessie. What the fuck? What was Rick thinking?

"He has to go," Rick insisted.

"You do anything now, you'll be playing right into his hands. Why do you think he painted that shit in front of my house? He knows, and he's letting me know that. He could have called me out along with Aaron and Eric tonight, but he didn't. He's waiting to see what I'll do before he plays that card. Any one of us starts pushing our weight around, we're the one's gonna get kicked out, and I'm not going," Daryl said. He glanced at Aaron. "I just ain't. I can't."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Rick said feeling helpless. "I'm just supposed to sit back and watch him screw with us? I'm supposed to keep my mouth shut when I see Jessie tomorrow, and her eye is bruised or maybe this time her arm is broken?"

"You'll have your chance, Rick," Carol said to him. "Not now. Not until we have a secure spot in this place. Jessie will be ok. I'll look out for her. Me and her speak the same language."

Daryl could relate. He and Carol both came from abusive homes. It was something that no one could understand unless they'd been through it. Rick was a cop. He always saw the outcome of the abuse. He didn't know about the survival within the home. "For what it's worth, I spoke with Deanna today. I'm off of probation. And she's coming around. She's glad we're here. We're gaining her trust."

"Maybe that's our next move. We sit down with her and come up with a strategy," Rick said, sounding better than a moment ago.

"I think she'll listen, especially after Pete's little blow up tonight," Daryl said. "She's not blind. She knows tensions are on the rise. Now is the time before it gets any worse."

Rick nodded. "Alright. Let's give it a couple days to cool down around here, and then we'll talk to Deanna."

"Sounds like a plan," Carol smiled. She turned to Daryl. "Hey, you want to come over tonight you're more than welcome."

"Yeah, I think I will," Daryl accepted, and then looked at Aaron. "You wanna meet up at Carol's?"

"I think I'll pass," Aaron said, denying the invitation.

Daryl knew what this was. It was Eric manipulating Aaron again. They'd had words before Eric left. Now Aaron was worried about him. Daryl pulled Aaron to the side where he could speak to him. "You got to let him stand on his own two feet."

"I know. It's just … Pete's words really disturbed him tonight. I'm not going over there. I just want to be available, just in case."

"Yeah, whatever," Daryl said, sounding put out.

"Come on. Not tonight," Aaron pleaded without much fight.

Daryl looked him in the eye, searching for something and not finding it. For tonight, Daryl would curb his jealousy. He still didn't like it, but there was nothing he could do about it. "I'll see you tomorrow." He turned and walked off, going to Carol's house where he hoped she had that bottle of moonshine he gave her to stash away, meant for times especially like this.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 It's A Good Time for a Run**

Daryl sat at Carol's kitchen table, feet up, chair tilted back on two legs, and a butter knife in his hand. He kept flipping it in the air to see how many times he could catch it by the handle. Daryl's hands were always busy when he was in deep thought. Usually, he liked to work on his bike, but it was in Aaron's garage, and he didn't want to go over there. Tonight, they needed their space, especially after the big blow up at the meeting, where Pete made a scene. He'd called out Aaron and Eric, making it sound like they were responsible for the apocalypse, as well as Rick and their group. But he wondered why Pete hadn't called him out. After all, Pete had witnessed a private moment between him and Aaron. He looked right at Daryl. The man knew. He had a perfect opportunity to call Daryl out, expose his secret, and tell the whole town that Aaron was his lover. Why didn't he? Daryl wondered, as he tossed the knife a few more times.

Carol came in with a mason jar of moonshine. Daryl had given it to her for safe keeping. With the tension running high, his supplier shut down his business, temporarily, he'd said. Daryl knew enough about the bootleg industry to know what temporary meant. The guy was scared to get caught and kicked out. It would be a long time before he would try again. Daryl had one jar left, and took it to Carol's house, telling her to put it away for a rainy day. He knew it was safe here. Carol wouldn't touch the stuff. Gave her nightmares, she said.

She put the jar on the table and started to reach for a glass from a cabinet, but Daryl stopped her. "Don't need one," he mumbled, unscrewing the lid. He took one sip, closed his eyes, put his head down and covered his mouth with the back of his hand to keep from choking. The first swallow was always the hardest. After that, it went down easier and easier. It was dangerous stuff once you got used to the burn.

"Thank goodness you don't have any smokes," Carol commented, taking a seat across from him.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"Gasoline and fire is a bad combination," she smiled, making a joke.

Daryl chortled and a memory struck him. "I knew a guy once who used to put on a show for us kids in the neighborhood. He said he was part dragon because he could breathe fire. He'd take a swig of hooch, spray it out of his mouth and ignite it with a lighter." Daryl gave a real laugh. "Dumbass caught himself on fire one time. Burned off his eyebrows, his eye lashes, and singed the hair on his head. Ahh, good times."

"That's what you did for fun?" she questioned.

"Why? What did you do for entertainment as a kid?"

Carol didn't answer right away, and kept her head down. Then she looked away and shrugged her shoulders. "I was a bookworm. Always had my nose buried between the pages. I didn't have many friends. My dad didn't allow anyone in the house. A book was my portal to another world, another life."

Daryl realized that he didn't really know much about Carol's past before the outbreak. "Your dad, was he rough on you?"

Carol nodded, still unable to look directly at Daryl. "Maybe not as bad as yours, but yeah, he had his moments."

"I guess we're all a product of the environment we grew up in," Daryl said, taking another drink.

"You know what they say, a girl always marries someone like her daddy." She shook her head and gave a huff through her nose. "Well, that's not the case anymore. I'm never getting married again." She smiled and Daryl laughed. "Hey," she continued to ask. "You didn't turn out like that, so there's hope that that rule doesn't apply to everyone."

"I doubt Aaron and I will ever marry," Daryl said as a joke.

"That's not what I meant, but ha ha, very funny. No, I mean, you didn't turn out like your dad."

"Well, I don't know about that. I had my share of asshole moments. Merle, though, I think he inherited most of our father's traits. I was mostly just following my brother around whether I agreed with him or not."

"You ever beat a woman?" Carol asked bluntly.

Daryl furrowed his brows in disgust. "Of course not."

"Then you didn't turn out like your daddy," she said, proving her point.

"My daddy never killed anyone neither. Unfortunately, I can't say the same."

"The rules don't apply anymore, Daryl. It's survive or die out there. We've only done what we've had to do in order to make it this far. So don't let your past speak for your future. That's why we're trying to make Alexandria work for us. It's our chance at something normal again. God knows we've all done things we didn't want to do, things we did for the cause, for the group, to keep us all safe. I've got regrets, but I don't dwell on them because my back was against the wall, and it was either us or them."

"So you're saying this place is our clean slate," Daryl said.

"Don't you think so? Look at what's happened to you since coming here. No one has rewritten their story more than you." Carol got up from the table, went around to Daryl and took his hand. "Come on. I got something to show you."

She led him upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms. He hesitated when she pulled on his arm to escort him inside. She turned to him with an eye roll. "Don't flatter yourself. Come on." He went. Carol opened one of the windows. The screen was popped out and she climbed out onto the roof, which covered the porch below. "Grab the blanket off the bed and a couple pillows." He did. Then he followed her out onto the roof. Together they spread the blanket out, and each one took a pillow. They laid down side by side and got comfortable. Silence crept in between them, as they took in the sight of the stars above.

"That stuff Pete said," Daryl started. "He's right, in a way."

"People who talk like that haven't had to face a herd of walkers. They haven't had to fight to keep their home. He's a doctor," Carol pointed out. "He could afford to live in this housing division, and he's been here since the outbreak. Pete wouldn't last two seconds out there. We are stronger and smarter than anyone in here, and we can make others strong too. That's our main goal."

"Yeah, but I don't know if that's Rick's or not. I'm not sure he's making decisions based on the good of the group, not completely anyways." Daryl was talking about Rick's interest in Jessie. "Pete is out to make us look bad. He's antagonizing us, calling us out like he did tonight, and waiting for one of us to make the wrong move." Daryl adjusted his position, lying flat on his back, and put his hands behind his head. "I keep wondering why he didn't rat me out tonight."

"To be honest, I was surprised. I mean, I'm glad he didn't, but I don't understand it. It's like he's up to something."

"It's like he's being controlled," Daryl said.

"I think he's in charge. You saw all his men gathered around him, and you heard some of the people agreeing with his statement. Pete's building his army, and we need to start building ours."

Daryl shook his head in disappointment. "Why's it always got to come down to that?"

Carol sighed. "I don't know, it just does. So, in the meantime, we'll just pretend everything's ok, and try to enjoy the downtime. At least we know there's a storm coming this time."

"Well, we've done it enough times now. Like they say, better the devil you know than the devil you don't." Daryl stretched, feeling comfortable with Carol by his side and the stars above. These were rare moments, indeed.

"Hey Daryl," she said after a few quiet moments.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna fool around?" she joked, unable to contain her laughter.

"Thought you'd never ask," he returned playfully. He rolled towards her and threw his leg over hers. Then he gave her a bunch of quick pecks on the cheek, making her laugh as she resisted his wet lips. Daryl collapsed back onto his pillow, pretending to be out of breath. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

"Honestly, that's the most action I've gotten in a long time. I'll take it however I can get it," she chuckled.

"Another satisfied customer," Daryl said, and their conversation remained lighthearted for the rest of their evening together.

* * *

Daryl woke up the next morning on Carol's couch. The empty Mason jar sat on the coffee table, and he stared at it through blurred vision, cursing the vessel for seducing him into consuming its venom. He started to sit up, but as the blood rushed to his head, he thought his eyeballs might explode.

"Morning sunshine," Carol chimed with an irritatingly pleasant smile. "Here, thought you might need this." She handed him a couple aspirin and a glass of water. "They're expired by a couple years, so if they don't work take another one."

Daryl forced himself to sit up and swung his legs off the front of the couch. "Thanks," he said in a gravelly morning voice, holding his hand out to accept the pills. He popped them into his mouth then drank half the glass of water in a couple gulps.

"I made breakfast, if you're interested," she told him.

"Maybe in a little while. Let me get my bearings first." He palmed his face, rubbed his eyes, shook out his unruly hair and looked up at mother hen. "Why'd you let me drink all that?" he accused.

"Like I was going to stop you," she countered. "You know how you are when you drink."

"Yeah," he agreed. "What time is it?"

"Late morning," Carol answered.

"I gotta go."

"Where you going?" Carol asked.

"I need to check on Aaron." They'd ended on a sour note last night, and Daryl wanted to make amends. And he wanted his bike.

"You're in luck," Carol smiled slyly. She stepped aside, and Aaron came from the kitchen holding a half-eaten muffin in his hand.

"'Bout time you got up," Aaron said.

"What are you doing here?" Daryl asked.

"I needed to check on you," he replied. Aaron looked Daryl up and down. "You look like shit."

"Mission accomplished," Daryl said smugly.

Carol laughed. "He's not a morning person."

"I've come to realize that," Aaron responded. He looked down at a chair next to him and saw Daryl's wing vest, picked it up, and threw it at him as hard as he could. "Get up and let's go."

"Where we going?" Daryl asked. He stood from the couch and stretched. That's when he saw that Aaron was dressed in layers as though he was going to be out in the crisp weather. "We going on a run?"

"We're going hunting. Just you and me."

Daryl nodded. "Good."

After leaving Carol's house, Daryl talked Aaron into taking his bike. This might be one of the last times he could ride it. The weather was turning colder lately. Fall was settling in quickly. And since they weren't going out looking for supplies, they could afford to travel on Daryl's motorcycle. They wouldn't be out too long. With the cooler temperatures, they'd be back before sundown.

Daryl always felt good when he was out hunting and tracking. He felt like a normal man. The world felt a little more commonplace too. With people having to change and adapt to the way things were, the one thing that remained the same was nature. Animals still behaved the way they always had. Daryl could still track them the way he'd been taught at a young age. Lining up a shot with his crossbow, waiting for the exact moment to shoot made him feel that everything was as it should be.

"See how the grass is pushed down along here?" Daryl said to Aaron. "This is an animal trail. Too big to be a rabbit."

"What do you think it is?" Aaron asked, taking a closer look at the area.

"My best guess is a pig, maybe several." Daryl stood and looked around. "Didn't we see a farm not too far from here?"

"You mean that old burned out barn? We passed it a few miles back." Aaron pointed in that general direction.

"They might have come from there. These are probably the offspring." Daryl knelt down and moved some of the dry grass around, looking for scat that could help him better identify the animal.

"Well, there's something we haven't had before, a pig roast," Aaron said, happily dreaming of the delicious cooked meat.

"Naw man, we need to catch them, bring 'em back, breed them if we can. We got a place where we can pen them in?"

"We could make something, I'm sure. So, what do you know about pig farming?" Aaron asked.

"Back when we lived in the prison, we had pigs. Got lucky enough to catch a pregnant sow." Daryl stood up, looking in the direction that the trail ran. "Didn't last though. That sickness infected the mother and she died. Couldn't risk eating the others, just in case they were the cause of the disease. We found another use for them, though." Daryl's voice lowered as he remembered Rick having to use the piglets as bait for the walkers to get them away from the fences. It had been good for a time at the prison, but it mostly brought back bad memories. So many dead. So many good people died. It should never have happened, and Daryl always felt a bit guilty for not doing more to secure their home. He wouldn't make that mistake again. "Well," he said, shaking himself from his memories. "No use trying to catch them now. We got no way of getting them back. We'll bring it up to Deanna, build a pen in a decent spot, and then we'll attempt to catch them. They ain't going anywhere."

They left that spot to look for other animals. The nice thing was, Daryl didn't have to catch anything. There was no urgency to feed his people. Alexandria had plenty of food. This was just for entertainment purposes, and if they happened to catch some rabbits or squirrels, all the better. Someone would have fresh meat for stew. Daryl took his time tracking, and relaxed a bit. He couldn't really let his guard down in the wilderness, but this was the closest he'd been in a while.

As he walked along, kneeling every now and then to check for tracks, he knew he needed to address the previous evening at the meeting. "Sorry for being an asshole last night," he said while pushing aside leaves and twigs on the ground.

"It's ok," Aaron said. "Maybe I overreacted too. It was a quiet night, just in case you were wondering." After the meeting, Aaron went home just in case Eric needed him. Eric had been shaken by Pete and his outburst.

Daryl replied with a mumble. "Mmph."

Aaron kept watch while Daryl tracked. He saw something move and narrowed his eyes at it. "Hey, a rabbit," Aaron said.

Daryl stood and looked to where Aaron was pointing. "You ever shoot a crossbow?"

Aaron shook his head. "No, just guns. I can use a knife though. I've gotten pretty good with that."

Daryl eyed him a moment, then handed him his bow. "Here, try it." He gave Aaron step by step instructions on how to load an arrow, and was impressed by his ability to follow directions.

Aaron lifted the weapon, but he wasn't holding it right. Daryl put it in his hands the right way, and lifted it so Aaron could look through the sight. Daryl stood behind him and whispered so as not to spook their target. "Remember to breathe. Line up your shot. You should see it through there," he coached.

"Wait, I lost it," Aaron said, looking for the rabbit through the sight. He pulled his head away and look out at the forest, saw movement and lifted the bow again. "I got him." He looked through the sight and saw something, but it wasn't the rabbit. It was deeper into the forest, and seemed to be standing against a tree. "There's something out there. A roamer, I think."

"Give it here," Daryl commanded, taking back his bow, and gazing through the sight. "I see it." He watched but it wasn't moving. It was just standing there. "What the hell is it doing?"

With the rabbit forgotten about, they moved closer, staying cautious as they went, when they stumbled upon a mutilated body. The arms were cut off, and legs, still attached to the waist, were separated from the torso. Everything from the waist up was missing.

"The blood is fresh. This just happened," Daryl warned. "Get ready. Whoever did this is probable still here."

"My God, what happened here?" Aaron said with disgust. He and Daryl walked with weapons drawn towards the walker.

They approached the walker carefully, and found that it was tied to a tree, a dead woman who hadn't yet reanimated. Her stomach and chest had been torn out, intestines spilling to the ground. There was no wound to her head. She would come back soon.

Aaron looked on in horror. "She was left here as food."

"She was left here to die. My guess is that she was alive when it happened," Daryl said, taking a closer look at the body. Her head hung down, and her long hair covered her face.

"This is sick," Aaron said, slight panic in his voice. They could very well be in serious trouble right now, especially if whoever did this was still around, and they were about to get ambushed.

Daryl grabbed her hair and lifted her head. She'd been dead a while, and there was a 'W' carved into her forehead. "I've seen this before. Me, Rick and Carol were out once, when we first arrived at Alexandria, and we took down a couple walkers that had this same mark on their heads."

She started making noise, and her eyes opened, cloudy, soulless eyes. Aaron raised his gun. "I got this," Daryl said, and knifed her in the head.

"It's not safe out here. We need to go," Aaron said.

Daryl stayed there a moment, observing the woman. She looked young, and she had been pretty when she was alive. He thought of Beth quickly, maybe because of the blond hair. He hadn't thought of her in a very long time. Was he starting to forget? He didn't want to forget any of the people he had known that weren't here anymore. That was what life in Alexandria was doing to him. It was not a good thing to discover about himself. "What do you think the 'W' stands for?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know. William? Wayne? Walter? Does it matter? Come on," Aaron insisted as he headed off.

"No, it means something, and whatever it is, it's not good," Daryl remarked as he followed Aaron back to the bike.

* * *

Daryl and Aaron arrived late back in town. It was dark and quiet. There were usually more people out and about than this. The vibe wasn't right. Something had happened. They went straight to Rick's house, and there they found all of the group.

"What's going on?" Daryl asked as he and Aaron came in. Daryl looked around at everyone's sullen faces.

Rick came forward and spoke softly. "Glenn, Tara, Eugene and Noah went on a run with Aiden and Nickolas. They didn't all make it back."

"Shit," Daryl said, glancing desperately around to see who was missing. He saw Glenn first, and was relieved that it wasn't him. Eugene, Tara and Noah were missing. "Who?" he asked.

"Noah," Rick said.

Daryl felt that same jolt to his heart like he did every time someone from the group was lost. Noah was a good kid. He believed in Alexandria. He wanted it to work. He wanted a place to be normal again. "Who else?"

"Aiden," Rick answered.

Aiden was Deanna's oldest son. He and Glenn didn't get along very well at first, but Glenn sought to teach him a lesson. Aiden was one of those guys who acted tough, but he didn't know shit. Nickolas was like that too, and they were finding it difficult to bring Glenn into their supply run team because Glenn knew what the hell he was doing. Daryl didn't much like the kid, but he didn't deserve to die.

"What the fuck happened?" Daryl asked aggressively.

"They went out to get parts to fix the generator. The warehouse had walkers everywhere. Things went wrong. Aiden was careless. Nick, according to Glenn, panicked and got Noah killed," Rick told him.

Daryl looked around the room again. "What about Tara and Eugene?"

"Tara got injured. She's at the infirmary. She's unconscious, looks like a concussion, lost some blood. Pete's helping her. Eugene's ok. He's sitting with Tara. Says she was trying to save him when she got hurt. He's pretty shaken up, but he'll be alright. Nick is with Deanna right now, doing an interview. She'll probably want to talk to Glenn next," Rick informed.

Daryl ran his hand through his hair and looked at Aaron in frustration. "We aren't supposed to be losing more of our people. This is bullshit."

"There's more," Maggie said, joining the conversation. "Gabriel came by Deanna's house. I overheard him. He's telling her not to trust us, saying crazy things like Rick is the devil in disguise, and that she made a mistake by letting us in. I didn't think she took him seriously, but now with her son's death, I don't know where her head is at."

"We can't wait any longer," Rick said. "We're going in and getting control of those weapons whether anyone likes it or not."

"You can't do that," Aaron protested.

Rick rounded on him. "And why not?"

Daryl took a step forward to get between Rick and Aaron. Tensions were running high with everything that happened. Rick was agitated, and Daryl wasn't sure what he might do, but Aaron wouldn't be a target. Rick, remembering what stood between Daryl and Aaron, back up a step and bowed his head submissively. Aaron proceeded to answer.

"Gabriel's been in Deanna's ear, and right now she's vulnerable. If you start pushing your weight around, you're all going to find yourselves outside those walls. Don't ruin what you've built with her," Aaron explained.

Carol put a hand on Rick's arm and pulled him away so she had his full attention. "I've been in the weapons room recently, and I found a locker full of weapons they don't use. I'm pretty sure I can take some of them, and they'll never be missed."

Rick considered it a moment and nodded. "Fine, it's a start anyways."

Daryl didn't think now was a good time to mention the mutilated body and the woman tied to the tree. Rick was on edge, and it wouldn't take much for him to go over it. Taking weapons from the supply room was risky, and if someone found out, Daryl was afraid Deanna would come after him first. She had made it very clear that she had brought him into Alexandria, and she could just as easily send him away. Daryl wasn't so worried about going back out there. He had survived through worse trials along the way. He would survive still. But Alexandria was established. It was protected, although it had its flaws. With some tweaking and getting the people stronger and more alert, this place could be a serious stronghold, but it was going to take all of them to accomplish this. He also knew that if he was cast out, Aaron would go with him, and he didn't want that either.

"Why don't you give it a few days before going for the guns," Daryl suggested.

"Why?" Rick asked curiously.

"I think I need to be away from here a couple days before that happens. I'm the one who broke in there in the first place. I'm the one everyone is going to look at if they discover them missing. Me and Aaron will go on a recruiting run. We haven't been out looking in a while anyways," Daryl explained. He also suspected there was some kind of psychopath out there killing for sport. If they could find survivors, he might be doing them a favor.

Rick thought about it, and eventually agreed with a nod of his head. "Alright, but when are you leaving?"

Daryl looked at Aaron to get his opinion. Aaron answered. "Day after tomorrow should be good."

* * *

The next couple of days were extremely quiet and solemn. The town was in mourning. Deanna was nonexistent. Pete payed a visit to Rick, subtly threatening the constable to stay away from his family and mind his own business. Rick's tolerance seemed to be growing thin. With Pete making threats, worrying about Jessie, and the difficulty of getting used to life in a normal way, he was not coping well at all. Right now, it was like walking on eggshells for the group. They had to lay as low as possible, especially while Deanna and her family grieved, but chaos was brewing just below the surface. Tara was still unconscious and healing slowly. Pete was the town's only doctor, but he'd been drinking heavily lately, and not doing all he could. Sasha was spending hours in the watchtower or disappearing beyond the walls. Michonne was keeping tabs on her. Glenn was disturbed from being witness to Noah's death, and he was out for revenge against Nickolas. Aaron was worried about Eric, who hadn't left his house much after the meeting where Pete called him out. He'd been talking nonsense about another town. Aaron did his best to talk him out of it, telling him that they would have found this place already had it existed. He still feared what Eric might do, especially with the city's tension stretched so thin. He talked to Daryl about it, wondering if they should abandon their latest recruitment run and stay. Daryl told him they needed to stick with the original plans. Rick and the rest knew what they were doing, even if it didn't seem like it.

"We work best under pressure," Daryl assured him, as they packed the car with supplies and equipment. "You'll see. Besides, we need to do some more investigating and find out who's been tagging walkers before they become a threat to us."

Aaron put the last of the water in the trunk and wiped his brow. "We got plenty of blankets? It gets cold at night now."

Daryl was about to answer when he saw Maggie heading up the street. He needed to talk to her about something. "Yeah, uh, we should, but just in case, I'll grab a few more." He left Aaron at the car and jogged across the street to catch up with Maggie. He touched her arm and she stopped.

"Hey Daryl, you heading out?" she asked.

"Soon, yeah. Listen, I need you to do something for me."

"Sure. What is it?"

He looked down the road. Just a few houses away was Eric's house. "I need you to keep tabs on Eric."

"Ok, but can I ask why?" she wondered.

"Aaron said he's been talking crazy shit, something about another safe zone and other people. I don't know where he got this idea from. As far as I know, there isn't anywhere else, and in all the times I've been out there, I've never come across it."

"He has seemed more on edge than usual," Maggie observed, glancing back towards his house. "When I see him, anyways. Eric spends a lot of time in his house lately."

Daryl nodded. "He's a good guy, but he's easily spooked, and with everything going on around here … well … I–"

"You think he'd go to Deanna about what went down at Alison's house?" she asked, guessing before Daryl could continue.

"He may be forced to pick a side soon, and I'm not so sure he's coming over to ours."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" she asked.

"I'll leave that up to you, but if anyone should speak with him, it should be you. Right now, I think you're the most reasonable one of us. Everyone is dealing with issues." Daryl saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Aaron standing by the car, arms crossed, watching him from the other side of the street. "I gotta go. Be back in a few days."

Maggie hugged him, even though he was stiff and didn't really hug her back. She was used to it. "Be careful out there," she whispered in his ear. "Both of you."

Daryl nodded and put his hand on her shoulder. Then he went back to the supply room for a couple more blankets. When he got back to the car, Aaron looked skeptical. "What's wrong with you?" Daryl asked on the defense.

"Everything ok?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah. Just speaking with Maggie before we left," Daryl answered suspiciously.

"You were glancing at Eric's house."

"I told her to keep an eye on him while you were gone. That's all." Daryl walked across the street heading to their vehicles. He glanced over his shoulder. "C'mon man," he said impatiently. Daryl mounted his bike and Aaron got in the car. Someone opened the gate, and they took off down the road.

* * *

They drove about an hour out until Daryl stopped his bike. Aaron pulled up alongside him with the car, and grabbed his backpack and weapons from the backseat. They spent most of the day quiet and tracking, listening for the sound of voices, but there was no sign of life. Daryl was used to their routine now, but in the beginning, he didn't understand it. Aaron and Eric used some kind of spy equipment to listen in on strangers so that they could keep a safe distance while they decided whether to introduce themselves and bring the people back to the city. Daryl used to think it was sneaky and suspicious to eavesdrop on people, but now he knew it made sense. There were some people out there that you didn't want to meet, and this way they would know before coming into contact with them.

"If we come across someone, and we decide to introduce ourselves, don't use their names right off the bat," Daryl suggested. They had stopped for a break, and were sitting behind a large boulder surrounded by smaller rocks that seemed to have broken off of the original. It was a good place to sit peacefully while they shared some water and food they had brought with their supplies.

"Why not?" Aaron asked.

"It's kind of creepy, especially when some guy just pops out of the woods and says, "Hi there Billy Joe. I am the bearer of good news. You've been selected for an all-expenses paid trip to Alexandria," Daryl jostled.

Aaron laughed at Daryl's impression. "I don't sound like that. I don't say that either."

"When you found us, you knew everyone's names like we were old friends, and told us we had to audition." Daryl laughed at the memory. "I was like, what the fuck is this, a talent show?"

Aaron laughed too. "It worked though. I got you all to come back with me."

"Yeah, but not before Rick kicked your ass."

Both men chuckled as they reminisced, passing a bottle of water back and forth. When they quieted, Daryl asked him something. "You told me once that you saw me lead the group to that barn."

"Yeah, when the storm was rolling in. I remember."

"How much more did you see?" Daryl wondered.

Aaron rested his hand on Daryl's thigh. "You were all walking down the road, and I watched you split off from the rest and head into the woods alone. My initial plan was to stick to watching the group as a whole, but I wanted to know where you went, and what you were doing. I'd seen you go off on your own before, but I thought maybe you were taking a piss or something. That time, though, you looked different. I don't know, you just seemed like you needed someone or something." Aaron huffed and looked down. "I … kind of thought that as long as I watched you, even if you didn't know it, you wouldn't be alone, so I trailed you at a distance."

"Was Eric with you?" Daryl asked.

"I never took Eric with me when I went in for a closer look at a group. I left him to watch the road that we came up from. It was just me … and you."

"What did you see?" Daryl said at a whisper.

"I saw a man swallowed in grief and loneliness yet still able to find the will to keep fighting. I found a true survivor, and not just against the roamers. I found a man who I knew I couldn't go another day without meeting. I found you." Aaron squeezed his thigh, bringing Daryl's attention to him.

Daryl gave a slight smile and a huff before he turned his eyes back to the ground between his knees. He remembered that day very well. It was the first time he allowed himself to grieve for Beth. "I'd lost her only a few days before that … Beth. It was all right there before us. It should have been a simple trade, two Grady officers for Beth and Carol. I had her. I had her at my side. All we had to do was walk out of there and it was over. And then Dawn wanted Noah too. Rick said he wasn't part of the deal. Dawn demanded we give her Noah, saying we took Beth and he was her replacement. Noah was willing to go, just to keep the peace, and he crossed the hall to Dawn. That's when Beth ran to him and hugged him. When she took off, I tried to reach for her and keep her with me, but I wasn't expecting it. She slipped away from me." Daryl stopped and hung his head so that his hair hid his face as he continued. "Beth had a pair of scissors hidden on her. They weren't regular scissors. They were smaller, like the ones they use in hospitals to cut tape or gauze. Anyways, Beth called Dawn out for what she really was, and stabbed the woman in the shoulder. Dawn's first instinct, as a cop, was to draw her pistol. She brought it up and fired. The bullet went straight through Beth's head. She was dead before she hit the floor. I looked down, and her blood was splattered on me, a pool of blood was growing on the floor beneath Beth's head. So much blood and all of it hers. I followed my first instinct too, and drew my gun on Dawn, shot her dead, and prepared to be killed myself. We were in a hallway of the hospital. Dawn's officers on one end, Rick and our group on the other. I figured the deal was off the table, and at any moment everyone would start firing their weapons. It was going to be a mob style shoot out, but it didn't happen. The officers pretty much threw up the white flag, said Dawn was at the end of her reign anyways. We did them a favor by killing her. I didn't care. I just wanted revenge against them all. Rick grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind him. After that, I kind of blacked out. Someone was going to take Beth, but I shoved them away. It had to be me. I was the one who picked up her lifeless body, and carried her out of that place. It wasn't that long before that Beth held me in her arms and told me everything was going to work out. Now I held her in mine, but not the way it should have been." Daryl looked at Aaron a moment before he spoke again. "I still see it in my dreams, even now. I see myself doing all the things I should have done. I can stop it in hindsight, and I do. In my dream, she lives … and then I wake up and realize she's gone. I don't think I'll ever stop dreaming about it. Shoulda, woulda, coulda … fuck."

"I'm sorry it happened, and I wish there was something I could do to help you forget, but I don't think that's what you want," Aaron said, moving closer to Daryl so that their arms rubbed against each other. "We should never forget."

"I don't know if anyone told you this, or if you figured it out for yourself, but you found us just in time," Daryl said. "We were at the end of our means out there, and it wasn't just hunger, thirst and exhaustion. Mentally, I don't think we would have made it much further. We had no idea where we were going or what we were doing. Honestly, I'd never felt as close to nothingness as I did during those few days before you found us. I can't speak for the rest of them, but … you saved my life that day."

"And you've saved mine too," Aaron smiled.

They gazed at one another for a moment until Aaron leaned in and they kissed. They separated but they kept their foreheads pushed against each other, needing the closeness. Daryl felt his heart race. He knew what he needed to say. He felt it pulsing in his chest, screaming for him to just say the words. Aaron nudged him and they kissed once more. This time it was Daryl that pulled away. The words were right on his tongue. He could feel their heaviness.

"Aaron," he whispered. "I—I want to … I—I just needed to say–" he stammered.

"Yeah?" Aaron asked in an anxious airy whisper.

"Thank you," Daryl said, not at all what his heart was telling him, but his brain blocked the real words.

Not exactly the words Aaron was hoping to hear, but he would take them. He smiled and gave Daryl one more quick kiss. He raised an eyebrow comically. "You can thank me any way you want later."

"I plan on it," Daryl responded, eyes dark and smoldering. It was that sexy look that easily set Aaron to flame.

* * *

After their short break, they started off again, hiking through trees and meadows, looking and listening for signs of survivors. They had been silent for a long time, and Daryl thought it was safe to talk. They hadn't seen walkers much in this area. They could relax a bit and speak. Daryl started. "You mentioned Deanna not hesitating to kick us out of the town. Has she ever had to?"

Aaron slowed his tread, but kept taking the long strides that his legs allowed. "She did … once."

"What happened?" Daryl wondered.

"They … didn't want to bend to the town rules, to Deanna's rules. They were very defiant and tried to take over leadership, enforce their own way of doing things," Aaron said solemnly. He stopped walking, making Daryl stop and look back at him. "You see why it is so important that your group, but especially Rick, must let Deanna lead. If she feels threatened, she won't put up with much, and … I—I don't want to have to do that again."

Daryl furrowed his brow. "Do what?"

"I was the one who brought those survivors in, and I was the one who had to escort them out. Not only that, but … I had to send them out there without their weapons. It was awful. I felt like … I felt like an executioner. Basically, I sent them to their death. Without their guns, they didn't have a chance. Davidson, that was their leader, he begged me not to do it, to at least give them a knife, an ax, a hammer even … anything. I couldn't. That's one of Deanna's rules. If someone is exiled, they must leave without weapons. She considers it reducing the risk of someone seeking revenge upon Alexandria."

Daryl was put off by what he heard. It was one thing to make someone leave the town, but to send them away without any kind of protection . . . "You might as well have shot them in the head, put them out of their misery as opposed to torture, because that's what that was. I'm not blaming you. You were only doing what you were ordered to do, but–"

"Deanna was only doing what she thought was best for Alexandria. That was and still is her first priority. And she didn't just send them away on a whim. She gave them numerous chances, but Davidson wouldn't conform, and he became a threat," Aaron explained.

Daryl thought about this a moment, thought about his own mistakes, and his unwillingness to cooperate. "She could have sent me away after I broke into the weapons room."

"You don't think I didn't worry about that scenario playing out?" Aaron inquired.

"You brought me in. You would have had to take me away too," Daryl told him.

"No," Aaron whispered, stepping close, and laying his hand on Daryl's arm. "I would have gone with you." Aaron closed the distance and captured Daryl's lips. When they separated, Daryl's eyes darkened and pierced into Aaron's. Aaron licked his lips and swallowed hard. "Too bad the lake house isn't this way."

"It's probably at least a hundred miles the opposite direction."

"And we're too vulnerable in the wild," Aaron mentioned, his eyes roaming down Daryl's chest.

Daryl took Aaron's chin in his fingers, and lifted his head. "Besides, were supposed to be working," Daryl reminded him with one brow raised.

Aaron looked off to the side with a disappointed smile. "Yeah," he agreed reluctantly.

Daryl watched him as he started walking again, but he reached out and took Aaron's arm, stopping him. There was something he needed to say. "Thanks."

"For what?" Aaron asked, searching his face.

"For sticking with me. For willing to stick up for me. Not a whole lot of people would do that," Daryl admitted.

Aaron smiled and Daryl looked away, not used to this kind of personal exchange of emotions. He started walking before Aaron could say anything else, and they set out again focusing on the job of finding survivors to recruit to Alexandria.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 We Do It Together**

It was their second day out, and so far they hadn't had any luck. There hadn't been any signs of survivors yet, but that wasn't to say there weren't any. Aaron told him that sometimes he and Eric were out for days without a sign of life. Just as well, Daryl thought. With everything happening back in town, he was glad not to be a part of it.

Daryl was concentrating on tracking when he came across something. "Hold up," he called to Aaron.

Aaron came back to where Daryl stopped. "You got something?"

Daryl got down and was looking at the forest floor. He pointed and Aaron looked, but didn't see anything unusual. Then again, he wasn't a tracker. Daryl looked up with a smile. "Someone's been this way recently."

Aaron got excited, as he usually did when searching for recruitments. "How far do you think he is? Is he close?"

"Couple hours ahead, maybe? Hard to tell, but this is fairly new." Daryl stood back straight and looked around at the forest. Then he pointed in a certain direction. "That way."

"How do you know?" Aaron wondered.

"Broken branches."

Aaron went towards the place where Daryl was pointing and examined the undergrowth. Something caught his eye and he pulled it from the bush. It was a piece of red material. "Look here."

Daryl caught up to him and looked at the snagged material. "Yep, someone's been through here. Let's keep going."

"Alright, but it's going to be dark in a couple hours. We need to start thinking about what we're going to do for shelter. It's already getting cold, and the sun hasn't gone down yet." As soon as Aaron said it, they heard a distant clap of thunder.

"We got a little time yet. I'll keep tracking, and you keep an eye out for shelter," Daryl told him.

After about an hour, Daryl was still finding traces of life. They were on the right trail, but it might take some time to catch up to whoever this might be. This guy was traveling without much rest time, as though he was on a mission. That was not determinable just yet. And with the sun getting ready to set, finding a place to camp was becoming first priority.

Aaron was out in front of Daryl when he stopped and gave a warning whistle. Daryl froze, lifted his bow, and looked up.

"I found something," Aaron said, proud of himself.

Daryl came up and stood by his side. There was something in the woods, some kind of vehicle, they thought, until they got a closer look. It was an old truck camper, one of those small ones that fit in the bed of a pickup truck, only there was no truck. It was on metal stilts, and there was a plastic milk crate on the ground where the door was.

"Someone might be in there." Daryl worried that they might have found the claimed property of the person they were tracking. He considered whether or not to go inside the camper, and then he felt the first drops of cold rain fall onto his cheeks.

"Should we check it out?" Aaron asked.

"Get your gun ready," Daryl responded, as he lifted his bow. They walked up to the camper cautiously, one on each side of the door. The windows looked like they were blocked out with newspaper, yellowed from age. There was mold growing on one side of the camper, and vines running up front part of it. It had been sitting here for a long time.

Aaron grabbed the door handle, and pulled it slowly, finding it unlocked. He nodded to Daryl, and silently counted to three with his fingers. On three, Aaron threw the door open, and Daryl rushed the doorway, aiming his bow inside the camper, ready to eliminate anyone or anything that might be in there. It seemed to be empty, and there weren't many places to hide inside a place like this. There would be a bathroom, though, and Daryl went first to check. He rushed inside so that if there was someone hiding, they wouldn't have time to think twice about what to do. He opened the bathroom door, but it was empty. Daryl's heart was pounding out of his chest, but it began to slow when it seemed there was no one here. "It's clear," he called to Aaron.

Aaron stepped up and entered the run down camper. It smelled like mildew, and he could see water stains on the ceiling around an air vent. "I don't think anyone's been here in a long time," he commented.

Daryl continued looking in cabinets and drawers. "Yeah, well, at least we're out of the weather. It's getting ready to rain."

Aaron pointed up. "Looks like it might rain in here too." He opened the bathroom door and crinkled his nose because of the stale smell of decay. "Built in shower," he jostled when he saw the hole in the ceiling. "This place is probably full of asbestos."

"Naw, it's not that old of a model," Daryl answered. He climbed the built in ladder that led to the loft bed. "At least it's dry up here."

Aaron looked up and saw Daryl's boots dangling over the edge. "I'm not sleeping up there. Who knows what happened on that mattress."

"Suit yourself," Daryl called down. "Have fun sleeping on the couch."

The couch was just a padded bench used for the dining area. The table came out and the back of the bench slid down to make an extra sleeping area. "Fine then," Aaron said with disappointment. He made his bed and threw his bag down. "I'll take first shift."

A couple hours passed with no incidents. Aaron kept watch through the window in the door, not that he could see anything. It was black as pitch outside. He couldn't hear much either with the rain beating down on the camper. It started about an hour ago, and instantly began dripping next to the bench where Daryl told him to sleep. Water splashed as it hit the floor, making everything soggy and damp. He had found a bucket, but he was using it to sit on. Didn't matter anyways. They were only staying here until the sunrise, then they'd be on their way again. Aaron hoped they could still track this person they thought they found, and that the rain hadn't washed away the trail. It had been a while since they brought anyone to the town, and he thought it might be good to introduce some new blood to the community.

With the rain coming down harder and louder, and Aaron concentrating on the darkness, he didn't know Daryl came down from the loft until he felt arms surrounding his waist and warm breath on his neck. Aaron smiled to himself as he reveled in the feel of Daryl holding him. "You get enough rest?" Aaron asked to make sure.

"About as much as I can." He nudged the back of Aaron's ear with his nose. "Want me to relieve you?" Daryl asked, his voice sleepy and sultry.

"Sure, if you're ready," Aaron answered.

Daryl's hand traveled around Aaron's hip and cupped him, squeezing gently. "I'm ready."

Aaron might have protested, but Daryl was bringing him around. "By relieving me, I thought you meant you were taking the next watch."

"I can do that instead, if that's what you want," Daryl whispered. He bit into the fleshy part of Aaron's neck.

"No," Aaron insisted. "This is much better. I'm not tired anyways."

"You might be when I'm done with you." Daryl sucked Aaron's earlobe between his teeth and moaned seductively. "Did you bring any–"

"In my bag," Aaron answered quickly.

Daryl abandoned him and smacked Aaron's ass. While he was searching through the bag, Aaron undid his belt. His fingers fumbled anxiously. Daryl came back and helped him by unbuttoning Aaron's pants, and slowly sliding the zipper down. Aaron instantly calmed, and did the same for Daryl. Then he got down on his knees and slipped Daryl's pants down over his hips, releasing his cock. Aaron took it in his mouth, licking and sucking, making Daryl hard as steel. Daryl's hands traveled through his hair and cupped his head, holding it in place, feeling the jaw muscles move and his head bob. "Oh yeah," Daryl whispered, giving in to the feel of Aaron's warm mouth surrounding him. He stopped Aaron before it went too far, and made him stand, turning him around. Aaron let Daryl slip his pants down, and anchored his palms on the counter in front of him. Daryl prepared them, and proceeded to kiss Aaron along his shoulders and the back of his neck. He pulled Aaron against him, his cock hard against Aaron's ass. Then Daryl got into position and slid inside. Aaron moaned, the sound setting Daryl on fire. He increased his rhythm, pumping against Aaron, the two moving together like a well-rehearsed dance routine. They fit so well together in so many ways, but this was the most perfect way, Daryl thought. Aaron knew how to move, how to moan and say his name when the moment was close. Aaron knew how much that turned Daryl on.

Daryl grasped Aaron's hips to steady him while he gyrated and pumped harder and faster. Then he reached around and took Aaron in his hand, matching the rhythm of his hips. "Come for me," Daryl whispered, and he playfully bit Aaron's shoulder. His tongue traveled up the side of Aaron's neck to his earlobe, taking it between his teeth and biting. Aaron's hand covered Daryl's and together they moved as one.

"So good," Aaron moaned and he looked down to watch Daryl palm him. "Oh Daryl, yeah," he panted.

Daryl knew Aaron was close and he went deep making short hard thrusts, hitting Aaron in that special place. Aaron leaned forward bracing himself on the counter, and shoved his ass backwards. His back arched as he cried out in ecstasy. Daryl felt himself build and build until he heard Aaron take his pleasure, and then he too released himself, his warmth purling within. He was buried to the hilt, pulsating, reveling in the feel of Aaron surrounding him. His body went rigid as he held himself deep inside Aaron's body, pulled him against his chest and surrounded Aarons with his arms. Daryl rested his chin on Aaron's shoulder, and his hips pumped involuntarily until he was completely spent. Then he gently kissed the back of Aaron's neck.

"Fuck yeah," he moaned quietly against Aaron's skin. "You always feel so good. I could stay like this forever."

"I wish we could too," Aaron said, hoping Daryl would smooth up inside him. "I love you," he said, unable to keep from saying it. If only Daryl would return the words, but he knew he wouldn't. Instead, Daryl pulled Aaron's head to the side, and kissed him with as much passion as he could muster for his lover. Aaron knew Daryl was showing him what he couldn't put into words, and it was alright. He understood, and knew better than to push Daryl into something he wasn't comfortable with.

Daryl reluctantly moved from Aaron, and turned him so they faced each other. They kissed hungrily, tongues caressing, hands roaming, arms surrounding each other. Daryl broke away and looked Aaron deep in his eyes. "I don't know why you put up with me, but I'm glad you do."

"I've told you before," Aaron smiled. "You're stuck with me for good."

"Yeah, well, it's a good place to get stuck," Daryl responded with a sultry curl of his lips. "Now, let's get cleaned up, and it's your turn to get some rest."

"There's a towel in my bag," Aaron told him.

"You think of everything, don't you?" Daryl said, as he retrieved Aaron's bag. He fumbled around inside and found some pictures, taking them out, as well as a towel. Daryl tossed the towel to Aaron and looked at the pictures. They were of the town, the houses, the lake and gazebo, the sturdy steel walls and the gate.

Aaron finished dressing and looked over to see Daryl thumbing through the pictures. "Wait, don't look at those." It was too late, though.

Daryl took one picture in particular and held it up to look at it more closely. "What's this?" He turned the picture around for Aaron to see, but Aaron already knew which photo it was. There was a picture of an unsuspecting Daryl walking towards the photographer, but unaware that he was being photographed. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and his wing vest, pants, boots, bow tossed over his shoulder.

"I, uh, took that a while back … you know … before we, uh–" Aaron stammered.

"Before we were together?" Daryl accused, trying to embarrass Aaron.

Aaron seemed to blush. "Long before that."

Daryl looked more closely at the picture, and realized that it wasn't taken in Alexandria. "When?" he asked.

"When I was still tracking the group, during one of those times when you went off by yourself," Aaron admitted.

"You were watching me back then?"

"I was watching all of you," Aaron tried to justify.

"Yeah, but you didn't take their picture."

Aaron came up to Daryl, shoved the towel at him and snagged the picture away. "Yeah, well, they didn't interest me the same way you did."

Daryl cleaned himself off and dressed. Then he went back to Aaron and looked at the picture over his shoulder. "What'd you do? Beat off to a picture of me?"

"No," Aaron said, exaggeratingly. "Maybe," he confessed in a lighter tone. "Sometimes," he squeaked out, expecting Daryl to protest. Instead, Daryl grabbed him and pulled him against his body.

"That's kind of kinky. It's fucking hot, actually," Daryl said to embarrass him. "But you don't need this anymore." Daryl grabbed the photo from Aaron's fingers. "You've got the real thing now." Daryl was going to rip the picture up, but Aaron stopped him.

"Wait! Don't do it," Aaron protested.

"Why not. It's not even a good picture," Daryl argued. He started to rip it again, but Aaron stopped him once more.

"I still use it," he admitted.

Daryl looked at him curiously. "You … use it?"

"Well … yeah … when you go outside by yourself, or when you were gone for a while, when I go out on runs with Glenn. So yeah, I used it, because I always have a little bit of you with me." Aaron was blushing again. Daryl looked like he was about to crack a joke, but Aaron stopped him. "Have you ever really looked at your arms? Holy shit, you've got the hottest arms I've ever seen."

"My … arms?"

Aaron shrugged. "I can't help it. Most people like asses or dicks. I like … arms. I think they are very expressive.

"Oh yeah? And what are my arms saying right now."

Aaron took Daryl's arms and wrapped them around himself. "They say they want to hold me again."

Daryl pulled Aaron hard against him. "You may be right after all. Come here." He kissed Aaron again.

"Hey, I think we might be alright tonight. With the cold and the rain, they can't smell us in here, and I doubt anyone will be stopping by," Aaron said.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Maybe I take back what I said about that mattress in the loft, and I let you have your way with me again," Aaron smiled seductively.

"Again, huh?" Daryl asked playfully.

"And again." Aaron kissed him. "And again and again."

Daryl captured Aaron's lips, forcing his tongue past them, making Aaron melt. "I'll take you all night, if that's what you want," he whispered.

"That's what I always want," Aaron said. Before they knew it, they were naked in the loft, taking it slow, making love until the sunrise.

* * *

In the morning, they set out again. The rain had stopped some time ago. The clouds cleared out, and the sun was bright. The air was much cooler than the day before. A front had moved in, and the drier air would soak up the moisture. Although footprints left in the dirt had washed away, Daryl was still able to pick up the trail he was following. Aaron remained on watch as they went along through the trees. At one point, Daryl stopped to get his bearings, and to make sure they weren't going in circles. The forest was thinning where they were now, and the trail was getting a little more difficult to follow.

"I think he stopped last night. The breaks in these branches are still fresh. He's not far ahead," Daryl informed.

"Hey, can we rest for just a moment? I think I got a rock or something in my shoe," Aaron said.

Daryl nodded and took his canteen, unscrewed the lid and drank. Aaron sat on a fallen log and fiddled with the laces of his shoe, but he had lied about the rock. Actually, there was something else on his mind, and if he didn't ask now, he didn't know how long it might be until the next time he would have a chance.

"I was thinking," he started.

"Me too," Daryl interrupted. "Maybe we should double around, and if we find this guy, at least we won't be on top of him. He could have a camp somewhere around here."

"Yeah, that's a good idea too," Aaron said gaining Daryl's attention.

"Why? What do you think we should do?" Daryl said curiously.

"I … uh … I—I think you should move in with me."

This completely threw Daryl off guard. "What?" he asked shaking his head in confusion.

"Or I could move into your house. I really don't care. It's just four wall and a roof. If you'd be more comfortable at your place, I wouldn't–"

"Why are you talking about this now?" Daryl really had no idea what Aaron was thinking.

"Well, Rick knows about us now, and so does half of your group. Deanna knows too. And by the time we get back, most of Alexandria will probably have heard. There's no reason to hide anymore, and I just thought–"

"We are tracking someone. This is no time to begin planning living arrangements," Daryl argued.

"When is the time, Daryl? Whenever I try to bring it up, you change the subject or suddenly realize you have somewhere to be. You've avoided it ever since I first asked you."

"We are in the middle of fucking nowhere. We've been tracking this guy for three days, and we might be about to stumble on him or his camp, and you're worried about living together? What the fuck, Aaron? We got a job to do."

"Yes, and we have a life to live back home," Aaron countered. "I just thought, after last night, that you might have had a change of heart. You know how I feel about you. I want to share more than your bed."

"Well, you've got bad timing as far as–" Daryl stopped and raised his bow when he heard the rustling of leaves. Aaron's attention went in the same direction, and he held his gun at the ready. Three walkers came out of the trees, and entered the small clearing where Aaron and Daryl had stopped. They all had a W carved into their foreheads. Aaron and Daryl looked at each other and nodded, knowing the routine. Aaron put his gun away and opted for his knife. He was ready just in case Daryl couldn't get them all with his arrows, but he did. Aaron went to the dead corpses and kicked them to make sure they weren't still moving. Then he crouched down and examined the mark.

"We keep seeing this more and more," Aaron observed, the previous argument forgotten for the moment.

"I don't like it one bit," Daryl added. "Come on. We gotta keep moving." Daryl turned to Aaron before they left the area. "We'll finish our discussion later, ok?"

"Yeah, later, just like always," Aaron said with disappointment.

They moved along in silence, but tension had settled between them. It wasn't that Daryl wasn't flattered that Aaron wanted to live together, but he just wasn't sure it was the right time. Yes, Rick knew since Daryl's house was vandalized and he had to come clean. Hell, they all probably knew by now. But it hadn't been discussed. It hadn't been dealt with, and Daryl needed to know where everyone stood. He told himself that it shouldn't make a difference, but it did, at least with his own people. Daryl couldn't give a shit what the rest of the town thought, and he knew where some of their opinions laid. He wasn't used to this. He'd never been judged as a gay man. He'd been seen as a thug, as white trash, as a redneck, and he knew how to deal with that kind of ridicule. But for everyone to know that he liked dick, and that he and Aaron were a couple, it was a little too much to handle all at once. And Aaron, who had a tendency to rush into every aspect of their relationship, wasn't making things any easier.

Aaron was just about to step into another clearing when movement caught Daryl's eye. He grabbed Aaron by the arm and yanked him backwards. Aaron froze and looked in the same direction. "There he is," Aaron pointed out.

Ahead of them was a small field where the grass was about as tall as their hips. Aaron took out a pair of binoculars and watched. There was a guy in a red jacket bending down to pick a plant. "What the hell?" Aaron wondered aloud.

Daryl took the binoculars away from Aaron and looked through them just in time to see the man rub the plant between his hands, and then wipe his hands on his face and neck. "Wild leeks," Daryl said, smiling to himself. "Keeps the mosquitos away."

"Are there even any mosquitos around this time of year?" Aaron asked.

"Well, with the warmer weather last week and the rain last night, there might be a few, especially in the shelter of the trees." Daryl gave an amused huff, "My brother and I used to do the same thing while we were out hunting. We'd come home smelling like rotten onions, and our dad wouldn't let us in the house until we washed that shit off in the creek," he laughed. It was not often that he was struck with a fond memory, especially one that involved Merle. It made him miss his brother, but he wiped the memory away as fast as it came on.

"Alright, I'll get the equipment ready and we'll start tailing this guy. If he has a camp near here, we'll know soon enough," Aaron said as he got the spy equipment out.

Suddenly, the man stopped and knelt down in the grass. Daryl was still looking through the binoculars, and spotted a small group of walkers across the way. They spied the man and were going towards him. Daryl threw the binoculars on the ground and scrambled for his bow. "Shit," he muttered.

"What?" Aaron asked anxiously, abandoning his bag and taking a look.

"Walkers," Daryl told him. He lifted his bow and looked through the site, but he didn't see the man anymore, and the walkers were gone too. "Where'd he go?" He lowered the crossbow. "Dammit, I lost him. Come on. We gotta follow him."

Aaron hastily threw his equipment back in his bag and followed Daryl. By the time they got to the spot in the field where they had seen the man, there was nothing there except the faint scent of wild onions. "We'll follow our noses," Daryl suggested, and they were off on another chase.

After a while, the scent of onions was completely gone and the trail had run cold. Daryl and Aaron found themselves at the side of a road. Luckily it was the same road they came out on. If they just followed it back, they would find the car and Daryl's bike, but Daryl wasn't ready to give up on the man in the red poncho. They went the opposite direction from the cars, the same way they thought the man had been traveling, and stumbled upon a rare find. There was a building with multiple overhead doors and trucks backed up to the loading docks. The place was surrounded by a fence, though, and inside were walkers.

Daryl looked through the binoculars to see if he could find the man, but there was no one in there but the dead. "Del Arno Foods," Daryl read. "How the harvest gets home."

"Let me see," Aaron said, taking the binoculars and looking. "Wow, there's something you don't find every day. And from the amount of roamers in there, I'd guess that those trucks are full of canned goods."

"We can come back some other time. Right now, we gotta keep looking for this guy," Daryl told him.

"I thought you said the trail's gone cold."

"I can pick it back up. He can't be far," Daryl persisted.

"Sometimes they get away. And besides, if we're bringing more people in, we'll need more food. We should at least check it out."

"I don't know. The longer we stand here, the further away this guy gets, the harder it will be to find him again," Daryl said, not ready to give up.

Aaron felt like it was a lost cause, especially with all those trucks possibly full of canned fruit and vegetables, which would keep Alexandria stocked for the winter months that were fast approaching. He said as much to Daryl, trying to convince him to give up the chase. "Why do you insist on tracking this guy?"

"Because if it was me, I wouldn't want someone giving up. I didn't give up on Sophia when she ran off. I didn't give up on Carol when she went missing in the catacombs of the prison. I … I didn't give up on Beth when those people from the hospital grabbed her."

Aaron put a hand on Daryl's shoulder and squeezed. "How about this. We won't give up, but let's just take a look first, and then we'll know whether or not it's worth coming back here. Ok?" Aaron gazed through the fence. "There aren't that many roamers. We can call them over and take them out on this side of the gate." In Aaron's opinion, finding several trucks full of food to feed the town was more important than one guy on the run who might not want to be found in the first place.

Daryl considered Aaron's plan a moment. Then he pulled his knife out of his belt and started banging on the chain-link fence. The walkers came over, and Daryl and Aaron took them all out by stabbing them one at a time through the fence. When it was clear, they opened the gate and entered the yard. Daryl and Aaron stayed cautious as they approached the loading dock. It was a big place, and there could very well be more walkers either inside the building or on the other side of the yard. They walked between the truck trailers, keeping watch as they went, then they hopped onto the dock. The trucks were backed up as though waiting for someone to come along and unload them.

"You check it out," Daryl said. "I'll keep an eye out."

Aaron went to the back of one of the trucks and checked the latch. Amazingly enough, there was no lock. There weren't locks on any of the truck doors. "Oh wow!" Aaron called out. "You're never going to believe what I found."

"What is it?" Daryl asked, but he kept his vision on the surrounding area.

Aaron dug through his bag and came up with a screwdriver. He reached down below the edge of the concrete dock, working as fast as possible, and came up with a license plate. "Would you look at this? Do you know how long I've been looking for one of these?" he said happily.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, and saw Aaron holding a license plate from Alaska. He looked at Aaron questioningly, but Aaron was smiling like a kid who just found a rare comic book that had been missing from his collection.

"And Eric said I'd never find one," Aaron muttered to himself. He tapped the plate in his hand and wiped the dust from it. "When we get back, I'm going to give it to him. I think it will cheer him up."

Daryl was still getting used to the fact that Aaron and Eric were still friends. Sometimes he couldn't help the jealous tendencies that crept into his thinking. He knew he didn't need to feel this way. Aaron was his now. Their relationship was solid, but that didn't help when he remembered that Eric knew Aaron on the same intimate level as Daryl.

"Hey Aaron," Daryl called.

"Yeah," Aaron answered, looking up with a smile.

"The truck?" Daryl reminded him of their main goal.

"Oh, it's unlocked. So, let's see what we got here." Aaron opened the back of the truck, but to his horror, it was full of roamer. "Shit!" he yelled.

Before they knew what happened, all the truck doors started opening, and every one of them was full of walkers, all looking at Daryl and Aaron like they were a meal. Daryl grabbed Aaron's arm and pulled. "Go! Go!"

Walkers flooded the yard, and Daryl and Aaron were finding it difficult to get away. Daryl's bow wasn't as effective at close range, so he took out his gun and started shooting, clearing a path for him and Aaron. But his bullets were limited. Aaron had his knife, but he lost it along the way. One roamer grabbed his bag, and he dropped it in order to get away. He could see Daryl not too far ahead and tried to get to him, but he was getting blocked by roamers. The only weapon he had was the Alaska plate, and he started swinging it at their heads. He finally caught up to Daryl.

"Over there. The car," Daryl said, and they ran as fast as they could, slashing and stabbing as they went. Daryl opened the door and jumped into the car, sliding into the driver's seat. Aaron followed, barely making it in time, but a roamer got stuck in the door. Aaron pushed it back and kept trying to slam the door. Its head smashed like a melon, but the door wouldn't close. Daryl leaned over Aaron and helped him pull the door closed until the skull fell away and they were finally safe inside … at least for the moment. They looked all around the car's windows, but they were surrounded. There were so many dead surrounding them, it blocked out the sunlight. Once they caught their breath, they started thinking of what to do.

"Will the windows hold?" Aaron asked.

"For a little while," Daryl said without much hope. He looked down and realized he still had his knife. Aaron didn't have anything. He'd lost his knife, his gun and his bag. "Maybe we cut up the upholstery and use it to block the windows. They might go away if they can't see us."

Aaron shook his head. "They smell us. They know we're in here. I don't think it will work."

They both sat in silence trying to figure out a solution, but it was a difficult thing to do at the moment. Daryl shook his head. "You know, it's ironic. I come out here because sometimes it gets too confining inside the walls." He looked at the rotting faces staring back at him and saluted them with his middle finger. "Fuck you, assholes."

"I'm sure that will do a world of good," Aaron said condescendingly. Realizing he was sounding like a prick, he hung his head with regret. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I should have listened to you. We should have kept looking for that guy, then maybe we wouldn't be in this mess."

"It's not your fault. We both agreed to check this place out." Daryl looked around the car. "Check everything in here. There's got to be something we can use."

"For what?"

"For anything … I don't know, just look," Daryl commanded. He pulled down the visor, looked in the console between the seats. Then he got up and turned around, leaning over the back of the driver's seat to see if there was anything in the back they could use. The car was empty, completely cleaned out.

Aaron opened the glovebox and found a piece of paper. He unfolded it and read it. "Hey, Daryl," he said.

Daryl turned back around and dropped into the driver's seat. He took the note Aaron was handing him and read it. "Trap. Bad people coming. Don't stay." Suddenly they both lost all hope as they sunk into their seats.

Daryl gave a deep sigh and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket. He fingered the tops of the filters, considering something before he took one out. Aaron watched him closely, already worrying about what Daryl was thinking. He knew the man pretty well by now, and Daryl's cigarettes were precious to him. Smokes were hard to come by, and Daryl only lit up when he was in a dire situation. Like a new father lighting up a cigar to celebrate, Daryl saved his smokes for certain occasions, only it wasn't to celebrate.

"W-What are you doing?" Aaron asked nervously.

"I think I've got a plan," Daryl said softly. He took a crooked cigarette out of his wrinkled pack and looked at it. The thing was almost broken.

"I don't think I like whatever it is you're planning."

Daryl struck a match on the dashboard and brought it to the end of the smoke, holding it there until it glowed orange. He drew in deep, held in the smoke, and then exhaled slowly. "You probably won't like it, but there's no other choice at this point." He moved so that his back was resting against the door. Daryl didn't want to see the walker faces anymore. He just wanted to see Aaron. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going out first and draw them away. You jump out and run for the gate. It's not but maybe twenty feet from here. You can make. I know you can."

"And what about you?" Aaron asked.

Daryl shrugged and looked at his cigarette. It was burning up fast. "I've had a good go at it. I outlasted a lot of people. Lasted longer than my brother ever thought I would. I think he'd be proud to know I made it this far, all things considered." He took another deep draw, the tobacco crackling and turning to grey ash. "Just let me finish my smoke first."

Aaron looked at him in disbelief. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not going without you."

"You have to. It's the only way or we both die. Look, I've had a shitty life. I've been crapped on and sometimes I've done the crapping–"

"You're a good man, Daryl, and maybe things haven't been so great, but what about now? What about us? Look at what we have. Look what's between us," Aaron argued.

"And I thank you for everything you've done for me. You showed me what it was like to be blissfully happy sometimes. You helped me find myself and face my reality. I'm forever grateful for that. But … I-I haven't given you as much in return. Even now, looking at death's door, I still can't–" Daryl stopped and took another long drag. "You're going to get out of here and go back home. You're going to be ok. You won't be alone. You've still got Eric, and he loves you. You've at least got that much, and that's more than me. You're the one who has to survive this time, Aaron. Trust me on this."

Aaron's anger was making his face turn red and his chest puff, and when he found his voice, he laid into Daryl. "Who the fuck do you think you are to make this decision? Do you even know me at all? I told you, from the first moment I saw you I was drawn to you. And by some miracle in a world where they don't exist anymore, you came into my life, and you were drawn to me too. It wasn't because we were lonely. It wasn't because we had to. It was because we both wanted the same thing. So … what? You think you can just check out and send me back to Eric, and everything will be just peaches and cream? Well, I got news for you. It doesn't fucking work that way. So here's what we're gonna do. We fight … together. We go to the fences … together. We do it … together. We either make it or we don't, but we do it together because I don't want to live in a world where there is no Daryl Dixon. You got that!?"

Daryl had never seen Aaron like this before. He'd never seen him take charge and demand so much. He'd never had anyone say these kinds of things to him before. No one had ever believed in him as much as Aaron did. No one had ever … loved him like Aaron did. A part of Daryl didn't feel worthy enough to have someone like Aaron in his life. Shit, and he couldn't even tell Aaron he loved him after all the times it had been said, not even now. But there was no denying what had transpired between them. They worked together well. They respected and trusted each other. And when they made love … well, it was a true match. Like Aaron said, it was a miracle in a world full of bullshit … maybe the last true love story, and Daryl decided that the tale was not over just yet.

"So," Daryl said after a long silence. "You like bossing me around?"

"Not particularly," Aaron said, but he was nodding at the same time, and Daryl eyed him. "Well, if that's what I have to do to get through to you." Daryl narrowed his stare. "It … it kind of felt good actually," Aaron finally admitted.

Daryl sat up and leaned dangerously towards Aaron. "Well, you know what?" he said in a deep tone, and Aaron swallowed hard. "We," Daryl said slowly, taking hold of Aaron's collar and tightening it in his grasp. "Are going to do it your way."

"Good," Aaron said, trying not to break character from his new bolder attitude. "There's only one thing left to do."

"Yeah? And what's that?" Daryl asked.

"Kiss me … now … before we do this."

Daryl pulled Aaron into him by his collar. They ignored all the chaos happening outside the car, and the fact that this just might be their end, and they sunk their souls into this one last moment together. It might have been a few seconds or a few hours, they didn't care. In that one brief stretch of space and time, it was just them in this fucked up world, and they had beat the bullshit one last time.

They separated, though reluctantly. Daryl got his bow ready. He gave Aaron his knife. They laid their hands on the door handle of each of their doors and breathed deep.

"Ready?" Daryl asked. He laid his pack of cigarettes on the dash.

"See you on the other side," Aaron said with a smile, and then realized what it sounded like. "I-I mean on the other side of the fence, not the–"

"I know what you meant," Daryl interrupted. "On the count of three. Ready? One … Two … Three."

Each man struggled to push their door open, but the walkers were thick. And then suddenly, a roamer on Aaron's side of the car slid down the window, lifeless. Then another, and another. Aaron looked on with confusion. "What the–" he started to say when the door flew open.

"Go! Just go!" Daryl yelled as he realized there was someone helping them escape. He saw Aaron push on his door and slip out into the sea of dead. Daryl did the same, and fought against snapping jaws and rotted flesh, all trying to make a meal out of him. He used an arrow like a knife and stabbed any walkers close to him, but he was quickly becoming overpowered. He couldn't see anything except the walkers surrounding him, but he called out anyways. "Aaron!" There was no response.

As he fought against the walkers, he thought about the note in the car, about this being a trap, and he wondered who was helping them and why. They might be escaping one nightmare just to find themselves in the middle of another one. He had to be prepared to take on whoever was helping them, just in case.

"Daryl!" he heard Aaron call out. Daryl fought with everything he had to make his way to where he heard Aaron's voice. There he was. He'd fallen and a walker had him pinned to the ground. Daryl stabbed his way to him, calling out to Aaron as he went, but like a bad dream, every step forward seemed to take him two steps backward, as though he was walking in molasses. And then out of nowhere, it seemed, there was a black man with a stick next to where Aaron was. He shoved his long weapon through the heads of the walkers attacking Aaron and helped him up. Then the stranger grabbed Aaron by the arm to drag him towards the fence. Aaron was resisting, and Daryl knew why.

"Aaron!" Daryl shouted, capturing his attention. "Get out the gates!"

The black man shoved Aaron towards the fence and went back to clear a path for Daryl. Together, they all made it out of the fence. Daryl fired at a couple walkers outside the fence while Aaron chained the gate. Once they were sure they were safe, Daryl ran to Aaron and cupped his face.

"You alright? Are you hurt?" Daryl asked desperately.

Aaron laughed nervously. "I'm alright, Daryl. I'm not bit. I'm ok."

Daryl had been so frightened to lose Aaron, something he'd never experienced before, and he realized how very much he needed his partner in his life … just as much as Aaron admitted to needing him. He knew they weren't alone, and for the first time it didn't matter. Daryl kissed Aaron to show him how relieved he was. Aaron smiled back at Daryl when he saw how scared and concerned he was. "I'm fine," Aaron whispered. Daryl playfully slapped the side of Aaron's face, and then they both turned to the black man.

Aaron was shaken, but more thankful than anything else. He stuttered as he tried to form words, and finally found his voice. "Thank you. I-I'm Aaron a-and this is Daryl."

"Morgan," the man said, introducing himself with a sense of calm, even after what had just happened.

Daryl observed the man. He carried a pack on his back, probably stuffed with everything he owned. In his hand was the walking stick he used to kill the corpses. There was a strange sense of inner peace that emanated from the man. He even smiled as he looked back and forth between Aaron and Daryl. He wasn't exhausted from the fight. He wasn't disgusted by Aaron and Daryl's exchange. He seemed free from anxiety and fear, relieved that he'd successfully helped Aaron and Daryl from their trap.

Daryl had questions for the man called Morgan, but only one word came to mind. "Why?" he asked. Why would a complete stranger risk his life to save two men he did not know?

Morgan smiled, his eyes bright with hope, something Daryl hadn't witnessed in a long time. "Because all life is precious, Daryl," Morgan answered. It was a simple answer, but it spoke volumes.

"We, uh, we shouldn't stay here," Aaron said. "There was a note. Whoever set this trap will be coming back." Aaron stopped to look at Daryl, asking him with his eyes whether they should risk telling Morgan about Alexandria.

Daryl glanced at Morgan again, and even though they didn't have a clue as to who this man was or what he was like, Daryl just knew he was a good man. He nodded to Aaron, letting him know it was alright, and they agreed.

Aaron turned back to Morgan. "We have good news. We have a place … a-a community. It's well protected. There are others, many others who live there in safety. We would be pleased to have you join us there. We think you'd fit in well. There's running water, electricity, and–"

"Thank you," Morgan interrupted politely. "But I'm on my way somewhere. Actually, I'm lost and I thought maybe you could help me?" he reached into his jacket, pulled out a map, and handed it to Daryl.

Daryl took the map and unfolded it. He huffed an unbelieving laugh, and Aaron came up to stand beside him. "What is it?" Aaron asked. There was writing on the map, a message, but that's not what shocked Aaron. It had Rick's name on it.

Daryl knew what this was. It was the map Abraham gave Rick when the group split up. Abraham wrote on it, _'Sorry I was an asshole. Come to Washington. The world's gonna need Rick_ _Grimes.'_

"Where you heading?" Daryl asked. He didn't want to reveal anything just yet. He was still feeling out Morgan's sincerity.

Morgan pointed to the city on the map. "Washington," he smiled. Daryl and Aaron watched him carefully, and he explained. "I'm looking for someone. I guess you could say he's an … old friend of mine."

"His name Rick by any chance?" Daryl asked.

Morgan chuckled. "How'd you know?" Then he pointed to the handwriting. "I helped him once, and when we met again, he tried to help me, but I was a different person. Back then I was more lost than I am now, you see."

"You seem awfully sure that he's still alive," Daryl pointed out.

"Well, I was beginning to think I took on too big of a task when I stumbled upon a church where I decided to stay for the night. I sat down in one of the pews, and asked God to help guide me." Morgan laughed with true joy. "Low and behold, I looked down and saw this map, and there, by the grace of God, was Rick's name. Now, if that ain't having your prayers answered, I don't know what is. So I have no doubt that my friend is alive. If you could just help me get back on the right road, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Aaron and Daryl considered things for a moment and looked at each other. Daryl nodded, telling Aaron to reveal what they knew. Aaron turned to Morgan and chuckled. "Not all who wander are lost," he said.

"What?" Morgan asked, seemingly thrown off by Aaron's words.

Daryl shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You'll have to excuse my friend. Sometimes he can't help his inner geek. What he is trying to say is that you don't need this map anymore."

"I don't? Why is that?" Morgan wondered.

"Because I can do you one better. I can take you to Rick."

The man seemed flabbergasted as Aaron smiled at him. "You're not lost, Morgan. You're exactly where you should be."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 In the Blink of an Eye**

Daryl, Aaron and Morgan made their way back to the car. Morgan got into the passenger seat as Aaron took his pack and went to the trunk, opening the hood. Daryl walked back with Aaron, and after he dropped the bag, Daryl captured Aaron's lips, kissing him fervently. They separated and Daryl rested his forehead against Aaron's.

"When I saw you on the ground, walkers all over you . . ." Daryl started.

"Hey, it's ok," Aaron comforted him.

"It was too close. I don't like seeing you in that situation."

"I don't like it either," Aaron joked.

"It's not funny," Daryl said, still upset by the close call. He reined in his emotions, and stood back to look at Aaron. "If anything were to happen to you–"

"I'm fine," Aaron said seriously to get Daryl to realize it all worked out.

Daryl nodded and shifted back and forth on his feet. "You ok having him ride with you? We don't really know who he is."

"He knows Rick and calls him a friend. And he saved us … saved me from those roamers too. That's good enough for me."

Daryl wrapped his hand around the side of Aaron's neck and pulled him close to whisper. "I'm sorry. I should have fought harder. I should have stayed closer to you."

"We made it out. I told you we'd do it together and we did. So stop your worrying." Aaron kissed him once more. "Now, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get back home and take a nice hot shower."

"Mind if I join you?" Daryl asked seductively.

"Not at all. You want to stay at my place tonight?" Aaron asked.

"Not just tonight," Daryl whispered. "Every night."

Aaron leaned back and gazed into Daryl's eyes. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Daryl looked down at the ground, searching for the right words. "After what happened back there … and when we were out of trouble and I looked at you … Morgan was there and I didn't care if he saw us. It didn't matter anymore. All I knew was that I needed to hold you, to kiss you, to know you were alright. I couldn't give a shit what he thought of us, and I realized I shouldn't care what any of them think. I'm tired of hiding. It takes too much energy. They probably all know anyways, and if any of them don't like it then fuck them."

Aaron smiled and ran his fingers through Daryl's messy hair. "Good. This is good." He laughed. "This is really good."

"Alright, don't get all fucking mushy on me," Daryl said, trying to turn their private moment around. "Let's go home."

* * *

They were about thirty minutes into the ride back to Alexandria with another fifteen or twenty minutes to go. Daryl rode out front, which Aaron didn't mind a bit. It kept his attention watching Daryl ride his bike. It was a nice view from back here, he thought to himself. Actually, there were no bad views when it came to Daryl. Aaron couldn't wait to get home. He especially couldn't wait for Daryl to settle into his house. To think that he would wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with Daryl by his side, it was almost too much. It was definitely something Aaron had always dreamed of. There were times when he thought it would never happen, but now they were making it official.

"So, uh, you two … you're together?" Morgan asked. It was the first he'd spoken since they started home.

Aaron nodded slowly. "Yep, we're a couple." He couldn't help smile a little. "I apologize if I seem a little bit giddy. That's uh … that's the first time I've admitted it openly."

"Oh … uh … congratulation, I guess," Morgan stumbled to say, not sure if it was the appropriate response. "Can I … can I ask why?"

"Let's just say, Daryl is a very private person," Aaron said.

"So in other words, no one knows?" Morgan inquired.

"They didn't until recently. Some know, some don't, but that's all about to change."

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Morgan said carefully, "but you couldn't look more opposite."

"You're right about that, at least from an outsider's point of view, but we're actually a lot more alike than some people could ever guess." Aaron was still smiling, and he caught Morgan glancing at him. He must have been wondering why Aaron was so elated. "He just agreed to move in with me," Aaron told him.

"Move … in?" Morgan questioned. "You have a house?"

"Oh, yes, I haven't explained. I'm sorry. We have a real community where we're going. Alexandria. It's a self-sustaining neighborhood with electricity and running water."

"You mentioned that already," Morgan reminded him.

"So I have. Well, let's see. The town is surrounded by a wall of steel. Each panel in the wall is fifteen feet high and twelve feet wide, framed by cold rolled steel beams and square tubing. Very secure, very safe. Nothing living or dead can get through."

Morgan gave a laugh. "You sound like a salesman. How many times have you given that speech?"

"I, uh, well I … I tell everyone about it, everyone who we decide to bring in to the community. That's what Daryl and I do, we're recruiters. We go out and look for survivors to bring back, people who we feel will benefit the town. I guess I am a salesman, in a way. I would usually show you pictures of the town, but I lost my bag back in the yard," Aaron explained.

"Have you ever come across survivors and not brought them back with you?" Morgan asked.

Aaron nodded. "There were a couple occasions. Not everyone is good, Morgan. It's an unfortunate fact nowadays. Our main focus is to build our community without putting anyone in harm. There are those who are too far gone. We cannot risk bringing in someone dangerous."

"Don't you believe that everyone deserves a chance?" Morgan pressed.

"I believe most people do, but you have to remember that our community is made up of families with children from infants to young adults. We have elderly who depend on us to keep their way of living safe," Aaron explained.

"And you won't rehabilitate the troubled souls so that they might have a chance too," Morgan stated.

"I'm afraid we just can't take that risk," Aaron said.

"Who runs this town of yours?" Morgan inquired, getting back to information about where they were going.

"That would be Deanna Monroe. She was a Congresswoman from Ohio before the outbreak. Very smart, very fair. You'll meet her when we get home. She'll want to interview you, not that she'll turn you away or anything like that. All new residents get the same treatment. And besides, Daryl and I will put in a good word for you. Afterwards, she'll set you up with your own house, and then she'll give you a job. Everyone has a job of some sort in Alexandria, and Deanna is very good at reading people.

Morgan laughed again. "You are very enthusiastic, Aaron. I believe you have me sold. So, how many people live in Alexandria?"

"About sixty or so, give or take."

"And you have houses for them all?" Morgan wondered.

"Some are families, some are roommates. A few live alone. Daryl did … until now. Hey, maybe you might take his old place. It's a nice one story, maybe about thirteen hundred square feet, three bed, two bath. It's set at the end of a road, if you like solitude."

"I'm still getting used to the idea of living in a house. It seems strange to me."

Aaron humbled. He knew how difficult the transition from the wild to a community could be. "It takes people a while to settle in, some longer than others. We have something good going there, something normal, something worth fighting for. Everyone in Alexandria is there because they want to be there. Those who don't are free to leave. I don't know what you've been through out here, but Alexandria is about the people, about growing the community and making it a safe place for all who live there."

"Well, it sounds nice," Morgan agreed.

They went another ten minutes or so before either one spoke again, and when they did, it was Aaron. "So, Morgan, how do you know Rick?"

Morgan adjusted himself in the passenger seat as though he was settling in to tell a long story. "We met back near the beginning of things. He kind of stumbled upon us."

"Us?" Aaron inquired since Morgan was alone.

"Me and my son."

"You have a son," Aaron mentioned with surprise.

"I … had a son. He's gone. Now it's just me," Morgan said solemnly.

"I'm sorry," Aaron said sympathetically.

"When I first met Rick, he was injured. He'd been at the hospital when everything happened. He wasn't fully recovered, and I helped nurse him back to health. That's how I saved him. Then he went on his way. We tried to keep in contact, but it didn't work out. And then one day, much later, we met again, by chance. That … was a bad time for me. I think I lost my mind for a while. Rick found me and tried to help, but I didn't want it. I thought I was doing the right thing. And when he couldn't convince me to go with him, Rick left, but his words stuck with me. They helped me see through the fog. Eventually I got on the right path again, and I've been looking for Rick ever since. I need him to know that he was right, and he saved my life after all. He's … he's the only person in this whole crazy world that I know. He's a good man, and I know that together we can make a difference."

Aaron knew Rick was a good man, but he was also a changed man, and he wondered if Morgan knew that. Aaron also wondered if he should tell Morgan what was going on in town, but he decided against it. Better just to get back home and introduce their latest resident to his long lost friend. Perhaps Morgan would be good for Rick. Maybe he could talk some sense into the sheriff. It didn't have to come down to a battle between sides. Pete was a problem too, though. He wouldn't let things go any more than Rick would.

"Something tells me Rick is going to be glad to see you," Aaron said.

"Well, I'm gonna be glad to see him too," Morgan smiled.

* * *

It was dark by the time they arrived at Alexandria. Aaron stopped the car at the gate, and Daryl parked his bike next to the car. Daryl was surprised there was no one to let them in. Usually at night there was always someone watching the gate.

"I wonder where everyone's at," Daryl said to Aaron.

"Maybe Deanna is throwing another dinner party," Aaron replied.

They glanced at Morgan, who was getting his bag out of the trunk. Aaron took the moment to kiss Daryl. "You ready to do this?" he asked, referring to Daryl's choice to move in with him.

"I'm not moving in tonight," Daryl said.

"I know, but tomorrow–"

"Tomorrow is another day. Tonight, all I want is to go to your place, take that shower you promised, and then spend the rest of the night in your bed making you–"

"So this is Alexandria?" Morgan said, interrupting their moment.

"Hold that thought," Aaron whispered to Daryl. Then he went to Morgan.

"This is the only way in and out. Usually someone's on watch, unless there's a meeting or something where everyone is needed," Aaron explained. He turned to Daryl. "We'll just leave the vehicles parked out here for now. Let's get Morgan settled first."

They entered the gate, and Morgan stopped to take a look around. "Wow, streetlights," he said in awe.

"Yeah, well, they're more decorative than anything else. Actually, I'm surprised to see them on. We've had trouble with the generators lately," Aaron said. He looked at Daryl. "But I guess they managed to find the parts they needed to fix it," he said solemnly. That run cost two people their lives.

"I wonder where everyone is," Daryl said aloud. "It's quiet."

"I don't know. Let's find Deanna first," Aaron said. "We'll take you to meet her. She's probably at home." When Daryl and Aaron left, Deanna was mourning the loss of her son, Aiden. "She lives this way." Aaron led the way. As they went, he laid down a few of the basic rules. "You'll have to relinquish any weapons. Should you choose to go outside the gates, you can have them back, but in here, weapons are stored behind lock and key, and they must be checked out and checked back in."

"What about my stick?" Morgan asked.

"I'm sure it's ok to hang on to that," Daryl told him. "Knives are ok too. It's mainly guns they want."

Morgan nodded. "I've got a couple, but I don't have ammo for them. Ran out a while ago and never came across anymore."

They went past Deanna's home, but the windows were dark. It was possible she was asleep, especially with her dealing with a death in the family. Aaron looked awkwardly around. "Perhaps we'll give you a bit more of a tour. I'm sure you'll want to–"

Suddenly, they heard yelling and shouting coming from an area that they called the park. Daryl squinted and could see smoke rising. "They're at the fire pit. Wonder what's going on."

"Sometimes we have meetings around a bon fire, or we just kick back and hang out with the others," Aaron explained.

"Don't sound like no meeting," Daryl said concerned.

"I have to agree with Daryl," Morgan said.

The shouts were becoming louder and more intense. Without hesitating, Daryl and Aaron took off toward the park with Morgan in tow. Suddenly women were screaming and men were yelling.

"My husband! Somebody help him!" they heard Deanna cry out.

"You son of a bitch," yelled someone else.

"It's all his fault, him and their people." That voice belonged to none other than Pete. "When you let them in, you let in the chaos."

It quieted suddenly, not at all a good sign, Daryl thought. Something bad was about to go down, or something worse. The three men rounded a corner and stepped into the courtyard where the fire pit was. The first thing they saw was Abraham with his knee in Pete's back, holding him on the ground. Pete was struggling and yelling. Rick was there looking back at Deanna. Daryl and Aaron followed Rick's line of site and saw Reg, Deanna's husband, lying in a massive pool of blood, his throat slashed from one side to the other. Deanna held him in her lap, weeping, trying to make him wake up.

"My love," she cried. "What have they done to you? What have they done?"

All eyes were on Deanna and Reg, everyone's faces full of shock and horror. No one had noticed Daryl and Aaron standing at the entrance, the light from the fire just barely illuminating them as they watched and tried to make sense of what had just happened. Daryl and Aaron hadn't noticed that Morgan chose to stand behind in their shadow, shielding himself from these people and whatever was going on. Deanna slowly raised her head, tears streaking down her sorrowful face. She looked at the gun in Rick's hand, and then to his face and nodded.

"Do it," she demanded in a whisper, having lost her voice from crying out for her dead husband.

Rick gave a nod, turned to Pete, raised his gun, and without hesitation, shot him in the head. No one moved. No one spoke. Daryl and Aaron's feet were glued to the ground, eye's cemented on Rick, who was covered in gore, and his face had been bruised and bandaged. They hardly noticed when Morgan pushed them aside and stepped between them.

"Rick?" Morgan said quietly, as though he was seeing a ghost.

Rick looked up and saw Morgan, but his eyes were full of something else, something dark. He was not seeing Morgan or anyone else. It was as though he'd gone feral. Then he looked down at Pete, to his gun, and to the ground beside him were Daryl and Aaron finally noticed a dead walker.

"What the fuck?" Daryl said, and people finally noticed them. One of them was Eric.

Eric saw Aaron and rushed over to him. "Thank God you're here."

"What's going on here?" Aaron asked him.

"I-I don't know. We were discussing Rick's situation, and Pete, and then … i-it all went crazy … and now–" Eric's words faded as he looked at Pete's lifeless body.

"What do you mean, Rick's situation?" Daryl asked.

Eric didn't answer him. Instead, he moved very close to Aaron, as though for protection. "We need to leave. This is a bad place to be." Eric was very obviously upset and afraid, but Aaron was confused as to why.

"You want me to walk you home?" Aaron asked, and Eric nodded.

Aaron looked at Daryl, asking for permission. "Do you mind?"

Of course he minded, but now was not the time for jealousy. He was about to tell Aaron to go ahead, but Carol stole his attention.

Carol came away from Glenn and carefully took the gun from Rick. Rick watched her take it, as though he was watching someone else, not himself. Deanna could be heard softly crying in the background, holding Reg and rocking him back and forth. Rosita stepped over to Abraham and picked up Michonne's sword from the ground next to Pete.

"Pete must have taken it from her house," Rosita said.

Carol looked at Rick, who seemed completely out of sorts. "You ok?" she asked him.

"I-I tried to warn them. We knew. We all knew this would happen. This is what always happens," Rick said softly. "But no more."

"You fucking bastard!" someone yelled. Everyone looked over and saw Gerrard emerge from the crowd.

Eric pulled on Aaron's arm. "Come on, let's go now."

"Hold on a second," Aaron told him. He didn't like Gerrard, and he wanted to know what he had to say.

Gerrard stood by Pete, looking down at the blood and the lifeless body. Then his eyes slowly lifted to Rick. "Ever since you people came here, this place has been turned upside down. You think you knew this would happen? Well, we knew you'd be the ones to do it."

"Gerrard," Alison said sternly to stop him.

"No, you were right all along, Alison. People like Rick who can kill someone without the blink of an eye, they are the reason the world turned to shit." Gerrard looked at Carol. "Two faced liars who smile at you when you're looking, but as soon as you turn away they are scheming and stealing. These people are prime examples of why God has abandoned us. The world was full of sinners, too many to count." Gerrard looked at Rick, eyes narrowed. "Adulterers, seducing another man's wife just for his own pleasure, they are the filth." Now he looked straight at Daryl and pointed at him. "Fags! Men having sex with each other, a complete abomination in His eyes." Gerrard laughed evilly, as Aaron pulled himself from Eric to stand next to Daryl. "And don't try to deny it. Pete saw the two of you … kissing and … and touching. Blasphemy! Disgusting behavior! And all of them representing the pure evil that has continued to walk this earth. We are alone now. He has left us to fend for ourselves. Now it is up to us to destroy what's left of the ones who sent life spiraling out of control." Gerrard pointed to Deanna, who was ignoring the outburst, so full of shock and grief. "And then there's the Congresswoman, the politician. We all know that THEY are responsible for letting this disease spread, and they did it for greed."

"That's enough Gerrard," Alison said.

"No, it's just the beginning. It's time to rid this town of these sinners. After all, that's what we wanted, right? That's what we were willing to risk it all for. Tell them, Alison. Tell them now so that others will understand, and so that Pete's death will not be in vain," Gerrard demanded.

Rick slowly turned his bloody face to Alison. "Yes, why don't you tell us exactly what your plan was?"

Alison looked around at the group of people gathered. There was no other way out of the situation. "I am simply the town psychiatrist," she started nervously. "Some of you have come to me with problems or concerns. And yes, Pete, as well as Gerrard were two of my clients, but I'll not discuss that with anyone but them. It would go against any confidentiality–"

"Cut the bullshit," Daryl said, stepping forward. He eyed Alison a moment before he continued. "This woman is not what she seems to be. She's filling people's heads with things they want to hear. Meanwhile, she's behind organizing this retaliation, and trying to get me and my people evicted from the town."

"What proof do you have of this?" asked a man who had shown for the meeting with his wife.

"I've seen her schedule," Aaron spoke up. "She's been having meetings with Pete, Gerrard and many others who have formed an alliance within Alexandria," he answered.

"Are you going to believe some fag who lets a redneck bastard stick his dick up his ass?" Gerrard interrupted, pointing at Aaron. "Did you know that these two are together? Recruiters for the town, Deanna says, but how many people have they brought back? They're not working. They're going out in the woods and screwing each other. And before that, it was him." Gerrard pointed to Eric. "It's spreading throughout this place."

Aaron stepped forward next to Daryl. "I've seen with my own eyes that Alison has been stockpiling weapons. She keeps them locked up in a closet under the stairs."

"Weapons are checked into a secure room," someone from within the crowd announced.

Aaron shook his head. "Not these. They've gone unaccounted for. It is my opinion that certain people are readying for a kind of civil war. They don't want Deanna to be in charge. They want to exile Rick and his people, and they want to send me and Eric away solely based on the fact that we are homosexuals. They are bigots of the worst kind. They hide behind the word God, but they have no faith in a greater power except for their own." Aaron looked towards Alison, standing there behind the fire, her red hair seeming to burn as the glow of the fire played tricks with the eye.

"Is … is this true?" Deanna spoke from the ground where she still held her husband. "Were you really trying to get rid of me?" She sounded so weak and frail, not at all her regular self.

Alison looked around, and everyone's attention was on her. There was no way out for her. She had to confess. "You want to know the truth, fine. Yes, I was trying to compile a group of people who felt like I did. We believe in Alexandria. We know this place could be the start for rebuilding the human race. Like the rest of you, I want it to be safe. I want it to feel secure to the point that we have no worries, and it worked for a while. Deanna has been very successful … to a point. I think where she went wrong was by not asking the right questions in her interviews. It's not just about saving lives and giving people a second chance. It's about building a community that is not only safe, but one that will prosper. We need smart problem solvers. We need builders who have the knowledge of engineering. We need caretakers who can help our elderly residents, who can pass down their traits to younger people that will eventually be our own caretakers. We need warriors who will fight those things when we are being invaded. We need a variety of young healthy adults who will birth future generations. What we don't need is violent people who would kill another precious life, who aren't willing to better themselves. We don't need thugs and criminals who disobey laws. And we do not need gay couples who will never contribute to society, who consume and never give back. We need to build up our numbers, not diminish them. We need to procreate, not stagnate. Alexandria will be known in history someday as the place where life rebooted."

"Then I say we take care of the problem right now," Gerrard seethed. "Because as long as these people are here, there will never be peace." He looked around with wild eyes trained on Rick and lunged towards him. Daryl was closest and he grabbed Gerrard, pushing him away.

"Everybody needs to just calm down," Daryl said.

Eric approached Aaron again. "Please, can we just go now?"

"You go on. I'll check on you later, but I'm not going anywhere," Aaron answered. He could see the panic in Eric's eyes, and smiled. "It's alright. I'll be fine, but if you're uncomfortable, then you need to go. I can take care of myself, remember?" Aaron squeezed Eric's arm, and watched him disappear into the crowd.

"There's been enough bloodshed and crazy talk," Rick said, continuing the argument with Gerrard.

"You're the one who's been talking crazy," Gerrard retaliated. He approached Rick again, but Daryl got between them.

"You don't want to do this, man. You're fucking with the wrong people," Daryl warned.

"Get out of my face, you fag." Gerrard made to go past Daryl, but was pushed away again. Then about three or four of Gerrard's henchmen came forward to his defense.

Daryl ignored the threat. "I said to leave it alone. Now go home before I have to kick your ass," Daryl warned a second time.

"What are you going to do, shoot me like Pete? He was only standing up for what he believed in. Well, you know what?" At that point, Gerrard pulled out a knife and waved it at Daryl. "Now it's my turn."

Time slowed to a snail's pace. Daryl saw a flash of silver as Gerrard charged at him with the knife drawn. He brought his arm up and aimed the point of the blade at Daryl's heart. As Gerrard's arm came down in a striking position, Daryl reached out to grab his arm. He held Gerrard at bay for a moment, but the angle of his arm gave him the advantage. Daryl couldn't hold him, and the blade was getting closer. From the corner of his eye, Daryl caught a glimpse of black and white checkered flannel, and a voice yelling in protest. Daryl looked to his right and saw Aaron about to jump in front of him. Daryl pushed Aaron away, but in doing so he lost his footing as he bumped into a chair. He slipped and fell, and Gerrard was about to knife him. At that exact moment, Daryl looked up and saw Aaron jump onto Gerrard's back. Aaron karate chopped Gerrard's arm, making him drop the knife, and then Aaron started punching Gerrard. Meanwhile, Daryl managed to get back onto his feet. He was going to help Aaron beat the shit out of Gerrard, but two henchmen grabbed Daryl's arms. Suddenly, Rick was there, fighting off Daryl's captors. There was a third one around there somewhere, Daryl thought to himself. He looked to his right, and saw Aaron punching Gerrard, who was now lying on the ground. Daryl didn't even take a step when he saw the third man raise a baseball bat over his head.

"Aaron! Watch out!" Daryl warned. He wasn't close enough to stop the guy.

Aaron looked back to see what Daryl was warning him about, and the bat came down at full force, striking him on the side of his head. Aaron's eyes rolled up into his head, and he collapsed motionless onto the ground next to Gerrard.

Gerrard jumped up and backed away, standing next to the man with the bat. The two looked down at Aaron. His body started shaking uncontrollably. He was having a seizure, and blood was beginning to pool on the ground beneath his head.

Gerrard glared at Daryl, a smug look on his face. "Who's gonna save your fag boyfriend with Pete dead?" Gerrard mocked. "You all deserve to die," he yelled to Rick and the rest of his group.

There was nothing but a loud ringing sound in Daryl's ears as he looked down at Aaron. Then his eyes traveled to Gerrard, and saw him backing up as though he was about to bolt. Daryl suddenly had tunnel vision as he remembered Carol taking Rick's gun. His eyes went straight to it, and he rushed to her, grabbed the gun before she knew what was happening, and aimed it straight at Gerrard and the man with the bat. The man, who Daryl did not know his name, put one hand up, as though that would save his life, and dropped the bat from his other hand. Daryl didn't think twice as he fired a shot. The bullet took off half of the man's hand, sending flesh, bone and blood flying. The bullet continued into his shoulder, and he fell backwards. Daryl continued walking towards the man, gun aimed at his head. A second bullet put a hole his forehead, and he never moved again. Gerrard stood still, both hands raised, as he waited to see what Daryl would do.

"Hey, man, I didn't do that. I didn't club your boyfriend in the head," Gerrard said in a panic.

Daryl shifted back and forth from one foot to the other. He glanced at Aaron, and saw all the blood. "You fucking tried to kill me and him," he said waving the gun at Gerrard. Then he looked at Aaron convulsing. "Look at what your boy did. Carol! Help him." She was the first person he thought of at the moment. Carol ran to be with Aaron.

"Listen, man, I'm sorry. I was wrong. I don't know what I was thinking," Gerrard begged. He pointed at Alison. "It was her. She put all of this together. We were supposed to get rid of you all tonight, and she was going to take over the town."

Daryl was pacing the ground, looking at Aaron lying there lifeless. He waved the gun around, his mind a jumbled mess. "Aaron? Aaron!" he called out, hoping to see some sign of life. He saw Gerrard move from the corner of his eye and pointed the gun. "You ain't going nowhere."

The rest of the people stayed where they were, afraid of what Daryl might do. He was behaving irrationally. He kept the gun aimed at Gerrard, but glanced back at Aaron and Carol. She was talking to him, but he was unresponsive. "How is he?" Daryl asked, his voice cracking with emotion. Aaron wasn't shaking anymore. He wasn't moving at all, and Carol looked extremely concerned. "What is it?" he asked panicked. "Is he breathing? Is he … is he … d-dead?"

Carol moved his bloody hair to look at his skull. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Daryl, I don't–"

"No … no no no no no no," he said rapidly, tears starting to spring to his eyes. "He can't be. He was just right there, and–"

"Where's Maggie," Carol called.

Rosita stepped forward. "I'm not sure. I thought she was going to be here. She was going to check on Sasha though," she answered.

"Go find her and bring her here, quickly," Carol said, taking things into control.

Daryl was losing control, sobbing, flashing the gun around, bending over as though he couldn't breathe, pacing around the area. He could hear Carol as she was trying to get a response from Aaron, but she was unsuccessful. This only upset Daryl even further. Finally, unable to keep himself in check. He rushed to Gerrard with the gun aimed at him, and pushed the barrel against his forehead. "You killed him. You fucking killed Aaron."

"I didn't do it man. You took out the guy who did it," Gerrard pleaded.

Daryl was crying, tears staining his vision. He should kill Gerrard, but there was a part of him, even with everything that had happened, that thought death would be too easy. Keeping Gerrard alive meant he'd have to live with what he did the rest of his days. Daryl was torn. He could feel his finger resist pulling the trigger. But there was one person here who could help him decide.

"Rick?" he called out. It was a question, and Rick instantly knew what he was asking.

Just like Deanna had told him only moments before, Rick now said it to Daryl. "Do it."

"No, man! Come on, please. I'm sorry. Lock me up. Send me out there. Anything but–"

Gerrard begged.

"Die, motherfucker," Daryl said under his breath, and he squeezed the trigger. Gerrard's limp body slumped to the ground. Daryl continued to aim the gun and fire, emptying the rest of the bullets. Even after that, he kept pulling the trigger, but now there was only a clicking sound.

Abraham went to him and covered Daryl's hand. "It's over, Daryl. He's dead." Daryl's eyes slowly turned to him, and he felt Abraham ease the gun from his hand. Then he looked past Daryl's shoulder. "Go to him," he said.

Daryl nodded and walked back to Aaron. He let the rest of his emotions go, collapsed to the ground next to Aaron, and pulled him onto his lap. Instinct told him to cover the wound with his hand, and he did, but the blood ran between his fingers.

"Aaron, oh God, no. Please wake up. Please. Don't leave me. I'm sorry. Please come back to me," Daryl cried.

As if this wasn't enough, suddenly Alison could be heard in the background. "You see, this is what will always happen as long as the wrong people are let in," Alison said. She had gathered a crowd around her, people who heard what she had to say and agreed. Some were men that worked with Pete and Gerrard.

"Tell her to shut the fuck up," Daryl said irritated by her mindless preaching.

Alison went on. "They have no loyalty to anyone but themselves, and that's when others get hurt."

"Shut up you stupid bitch," Daryl yelled. "You're the one who doesn't give a crap. All you all, just standing there, looking around watching the queers. Well fuck you all."

Seeing that Daryl was in an extreme state of distress, Carol moved behind Daryl and draped herself over his shoulders, as though to protect him. Abraham, Rosita, Rick, Michonne, and a few other people nearby made a tight circle around Daryl and Aaron as if to protect them, but Alison kept running her mouth, trying to take advantage of the emotional moment to gather some more followers. Rick looked up and saw Carl and his friend Enid, who weren't supposed to be at this meeting. He gestured for them to come over. Rick removed himself from the circle, replacing his spot with Carl and Enid.

"Where are you going?" Michonne asked.

"I'm gonna see what Deanna wants me to do about Alison," Rick answered.

"She's not thinking clearly right now," Michonne warned.

"Then I'll take temporary control until she is." Rick went off to stop Alison.

Daryl didn't see Rick leave. His main focus was on Aaron, and he tuned out everyone else. "Remember the cabin? You can't go now. We have to go back there. Aaron? Hey, wake up ok? Maggie's coming. Just hang on. Just … Aaron? Shit, Aaron. Don't do this. Not now. We're moving in together, aren't we? No, please. Aaron, no." Daryl continued trying to rouse him but he wasn't responding. He was completely lifeless. And that's when Daryl's heart sunk. It didn't feel real. It was a dream. It had to be. Not Aaron. Not now when everything was so good, and Daryl had come to accept everything between them.

Daryl pulled Aaron's body closer and cradled his head upon his chest. He started rocking back and forth, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "No no no no no no," he chanted. "God please no. Aaron? You can't do this. I never … I never got to … Oh Aaron … I … I-I love you. I love you, Aaron. Did you hear me? I should have told you a long time ago. I love you, Aaron. Don't … Don't go." Daryl rocked and wept as he held Aaron to him. No one around them said a word, but they wept and watched Daryl as he finally owned up to who he was, what he was, and what Aaron meant to him. For some, they didn't know that Aaron and Daryl were a couple, but it didn't matter now. This was like losing a family member.

Suddenly Caleb was there, having missed the meeting, but heard gunshots ring out, and came to see what had happened. He looked on in horror, for he knew how close Daryl and Aaron were. Abraham gestured to Caleb to join the circle.

Maggie finally came with a bag of supplies. "I ran all the way–" she started, but silenced her voice when she came upon the devastating scene. Tears were instant and her shoulders slumped. "Oh … no," she said to no one. She dropped her things and slowly walked over to Daryl. She got on her knees and brushed her fingers over the side of Aaron's face. She took Aaron's hand in hers, noticing that it was still warm. "I'm so sorry. Daryl," she paused at a loss for words, her eyes focused on Aaron's wound.

Daryl looked up at her, realizing that she was there. He'd been so distraught, he never knew anyone was there. Now he saw Carol and Michonne, Caleb and Carl. Maggie wiped the tears from her eyes and watched Aaron a moment.

"Maggie?" Daryl croaked, the lump in his throat choking him. He couldn't get barely get the words out. "Can you help him?"

She thought it was beyond that, but she had to do something. Maggie took Aaron's wrist in one hand, and put two fingers from her other hand on his neck, checking for a pulse. She kept her eyes turned down. It didn't look good. "Daryl, I think he's . . ."

Another shot rang out, and a woman screamed. Everyone looked in the direction that Rick went, and saw the crowd around Alison begin to disburse. Was it Rick? Alison? And then someone shouted.

"Walker!"


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 The Past Has No Future**

Someone knocked softly on Daryl's door. He stopped what he was doing, and went to answer it. Carol stood outside on the porch, smiling gently. "Can I come in?"

Daryl stepped aside and let her in. She looked around at the house. "You still going through with it?" she asked.

"I promised him I would. Why? You think it's a bad idea or something?" he said on the defense.

"Not at all. I'm just surprised, you know, with everything that happened," she replied.

Daryl picked up his duffle bag and stuffed a few more things into it. Then he picked up a shirt from the back of the couch, sniffed it, shrugged and threw it in the bag.

"You gonna miss this place?" she asked.

Daryl looked around and shook his head. "Naw, it was just a place to sleep. Besides, Aaron's house is nicer … bigger."

Carol picked up a dirty bowl off the coffee table. "Cleaner," she mentioned and carried it into the kitchen.

"I owe it to him to follow through with my promise, and before that night … before … you know … I told him I would move in," Daryl said to justify his motives.

"He won't be there, though," she said from the kitchen.

"Yeah, well, I'm used to being alone." Daryl carried the full duffle bag to the front door and sat it on the floor.

Carol came out of the kitchen. "Is that all you have?"

"I'm a light traveler. If I don't need it, I don't keep it." He stood in the center of the living room and looked around. "Is Morgan staying?"

"I don't know. He hasn't said one way or the other yet. Deanna was kind enough to give him time to make up his mind," Carol answered.

Daryl cupped his hand to the back of his neck and smiled slightly. "Aaron told Morgan he could have this place. I gave him a hard time for giving away my house before I moved out."

Carol smiled and rubbed her hand on Daryl's back. "I bet he was so excited when you said you'd move in with him."

"Are you kidding? He got all giddy like a little girl." The smile faded as he looked up at Carol. "That's why I have to go through with this. I mean, to me it's just a house, but Aaron wanted it so much. It just … feels like the right thing to do. He would want me there."

Carol cupped his face and pulled him to her, kissing his cheek. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon, maybe one of the last."

"Yeah, well, don't tell anyone."

Carol walked with him to Aaron's house. They went inside and she looked around. "It's a lot of house for one person."

"It's alright."

"Uh huh, well, I'm still going to come by and clean for you," she said with a stern tone.

"I can clean," he protested.

"I've seen your idea of cleaning. You need me," she smiled. Carol went to the kitchen and saw the kettle sitting on the back burner of the stove. "Coffee?"

"I don't know if there is any. Aaron was more of a tea drinker." Daryl went to the living room and plopped down on the couch. He looked over at a chair in the corner. There was a grey flannel shirt draped over the back. Daryl remembered Aaron wearing the shirt a time or two. Funny the things he could remember, especially now that . . .

Carol came into the living room and sat next to him. "No coffee, but I found these." She handed a bottle of beer to Daryl, and kept one for herself. "Look at all these plates," she commented. "Virginia, Wisconsin, Florida, Tennessee, there must be one from every state."

"Almost. No Alaska. Actually, he found one, but … he had to use is against walkers." Daryl's voice was sullen as he remembered. "Maybe I'll find another one when I'm out."

"Are you still going to recruit?" she asked.

"I gotta do something. I can't just stay here day after day, and hope . . ." He cut himself short. Daryl got up from the couch and walked across the room to the fireplace. He picked up a small wooden figurine and mindlessly played with it. "You hear anything about Alison?"

"Oh yeah, I saw Rick earlier. Deanna has decided not to toss her out."

"What?"

"She convinced Rick that the whole eviction thing is not a good idea. Better to keep your enemies close, especially when you don't know where you're sending them. It's obvious that there's a new threat out there. Who's to say they aren't recruiting the people that we turned away? Alexandria doesn't need that right now. So, Alison is on a sort of house arrest thing. I don't know, you'd have to ask Rick. He's the one who set it up."

They talked a little while longer, until they finished their beers, and then Carol got up to leave. "You going to be ok staying here alone tonight?"

"When am I ever not ok being alone?" he answered smartly.

Carol went up to Daryl and kissed his cheek. She smiled and pushed his hair from his eyes. "You know, everything is going to work out, right?"

"Yeah," he said, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice. He was only humoring her.

"Hey, what is it? What's on your mind?" she asked with concern.

"I don't know. I keep thinking about that night, holding him in my arms. I … I waited too long to tell him how I felt, and when I did, it was too late. I had so many opportunities, but I didn't take them. I kept thinking that we had more time."

"You can't dwell on that, Daryl. It will only drive you insane."

"I know, and I keep telling myself that, but … do you … do you think he knew? Do you think he heard me?" Daryl was thinking out loud. He didn't really want an answer. It was all just a guess anyways. "I like to think he did."

"Then he did," Carol answered. She smiled at him again, and kissed his forehead. "I'll see you later?" she said.

"Sure," Daryl replied, forcing a smile as he watched Carol leave.

The house was too quiet, he thought. Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. It just wasn't the same without Aaron. Daryl closed his eyes and imagined him there, walking around from room to room, straightening this or that, picking up after Daryl. When he opened his eyes, he was staring at the stairs that led to the bedrooms. Daryl knew he'd find more of Aaron up there, his clothes, his personal belongings, the bed they had shared on occasion. He couldn't go up there, not yet. Instead, Daryl went out to the garage to tinker with his bike.

How did things go so wrong? He'd asked himself that a thousand times. Carol filled him in on everything that happened while he was gone on a run with Aaron. Rick finally confronted Pete about hitting Jesse, and things got out of control. It ended up with Rick and Pete brawling in the street, and nearly killing each other. Deanna finally stopped looking the other way and took Rick's advice to separate Pete from his family. She also had Rick put on lockdown until they could discuss in a civil manner what should happen to him. Her usual reaction would have been to cast him from the town for stealing weapons and for his violent behavior, in which he almost strangled Pete to death. But Deanna knew that to send Rick away would mean his whole group would go with him. They were a family, and they did everything together. She still needed them, though, so she decided to settle things with a discussion and eventually a trial. They were having their discussion the night Daryl and Aaron arrived with Morgan. They had been talking with townspeople and with Rick's people to come to a decision as to what to do. Rick wasn't at the meeting, like he was supposed to be, and that made him look bad in the eyes of the town. Michonne and Carol stuck up for Rick, made excuses as to why he was late, and that he would be there soon. They could only do so much, and Deanna was about to give her verdict when Rick finally appeared, bloody and befouled, carrying a dead walker. He had been on his way to the meeting when he noticed no one was watching the gate. When he checked it out, he found the gate open, and blood and flesh smeared along the entry. Rick knew what was inside the walls, and frantically searched street by street, looking for the threat. He didn't know how many had gotten in, but at least it wasn't a herd. It came at him from out of the shadows, and he had to fight it with his bare hands. Then he carried the dead thing to the fire pit to show everyone what could happen, what did happen, what would always happen unless they smartened up and started listening to him. However, in the midst of his speech, Pete showed up drunk, carrying Michonne's sword, threatening Rick, and telling everyone that Rick was the real threat. Reg, Deanna's husband tried to calm him, to stop him. And that's when Pete swung the sword to push Reg away, but the blade sliced Reg's neck from side to side and he bled out. Abraham, who was closest to Pete, grabbed him and wrangled him to the ground. It was about that time when Daryl and Aaron showed. They caught the final act of the night, when Deanna told Rick to take care of Pete for good. And within only a few moments after that, Aaron was . . .

Daryl was going through a box of motorcycle parts as he reminisced about that night. He kept playing it over and over in his mind if there was something different he could have done. He didn't see Aaron until it was too late. He tried to warn him, but there was no time. Every time Daryl closed his eyes, he saw the bat making contact with Aaron's head, the loud thwack it made, Aaron not moving after that, and the blood. So much blood.

Daryl's ire got the best of him, and he took a spare headlamp out of the box and threw it at the wall. The glass shattered, a piece of it bouncing back and hitting Daryl next to his eye. "Fuck!" he shouted. He reached up to feel his face, and his hand came away bloody. It was just a nick, but it bled profusely. He took his red rag from his back pocket and held it over the wound. Daryl looked at the clock on the wall. It was about time to head out anyways. He would ask Denise to take a look.

Denise was the new town doctor, now that Pete was gone. She had been his assistant, more like his nurse. She paid close attention to his work and picked up a lot of things along the way. As Pete's drinking got worse, she took over more and more of his practice. It was a good thing too. She was their only physician now.

Daryl arrived at the infirmary and went inside. Denise had seen him coming up the road with the rag to his head, and was already at the door. "What happened?" she asked, taking the rag away to have a better look.

"Dropped a glass," he fibbed. "A piece of it got me in the face."

"Well, come here and sit down," she said. Daryl had a seat on a stool, and Denise examined his head. "You're lucky. Just a little to the left and it could have gone into your eye. Doesn't look like there's any glass in the wound. It's not deep and doesn't need stitches. I'll just put some antiseptic on it and bandage it."

"Thanks," he said.

"I thought you were here kind of early," she said as she dabbed the cut with ointment.

"Yeah," Daryl said tersely.

"He's here, you know," she said quietly.

"He works here now, doesn't he?" He waited until she was done before he spoke again. "Maybe I should go."

"I think you should stay. Actually, I think you and Eric should speak to one another. You did, after all, have someone in common. Sometimes it helps to talk to someone you can relate to who can relate to you," Denise advised.

"Yeah, well," Daryl said, trying to avoid being social. "I don't think that's going to happen. He still blames me for what happened to Aaron." He flinched when she applied the peroxide to the wound. "Hell, I guess I blame myself too."

Denise paused what she was doing and stood back to look Daryl in the eye. "It is not your fault, and don't let me hear you say that again."

They heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Denise cocked an eyebrow at Daryl. "Behave yourself."

"I will if he will," Daryl said.

Eric came into the room carrying an arm full of sheets from the patient beds. He stopped when he saw Daryl like a deer caught in a car's headlights. Daryl only glanced at him, and then turned away.

"Everything … alright?" he asked Denise.

"Just a cut from some glass," Denise informed him with a smile.

"I was just going," Daryl said quietly.

Denise grabbed Daryl's arm to make him stay. "It's almost your shift. Might as well stay here."

Daryl looked at Eric again, but he looked away, and carried the dirty sheets to the laundry room. Daryl figured Eric would stay there until he was done for the day in order to avoid him, which was fine. No love loss there.

When she was sure Eric was out of earshot, she spoke. "Good. You've proven that you can be civil around each other. Last time, you all got in a shouting match."

"He started it," Daryl said, sounding like a five year old.

"Well, I was just on my way to see Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs. They invited me for dinner, and I hate to cook so . . ." She took her jacket from the coatrack. "Did you eat yet, Daryl? Want me to bring you something? I'm sure they'll have plenty."

"Naw, I'm alright."

"Ok then. You know the routine. I'll be back in a few. Call on me if you need me. And behave yourself," she warned teasingly. Daryl watched Denise leave and jumped down from the patient's table.

The infirmary was a house that Deanna had set up as a doctor office. There was a kitchen to the left and a living room to the right. The dining room was transformed into a patient area with cots and tables like you would see in a doctor office. Daryl always wondered where they got those. This area was for people who came in with minor injuries or concerns. They could be examined here, and taken care of quickly. For those with more serious injuries, there were beds divided by shower curtains in what would have been a bonus room or game room. Denise told Daryl that there had been a bar and a pool table in that room, which they moved out. Across from that room was a den. It wasn't a very big room, not big enough to get several patients into, but with the desk and a few other things removed, it made a nice size personal room for anyone who needed special attention and needs. There was a decent couch in there too, for anyone who wanted to stay with their loved one. Tara had been brought there when she had her accident. She was doing better. Eugene was always with her, taking care of her. He'd felt guilty for what happened to her. Tara was trying to protect him and keep him safe when she was hurt. Now, Eugene was returning the favor.

Daryl stood at the end of the hall, and gave a deep sigh. He took a step, but stopped when he heard Eric's voice. "I didn't expect you here. I would have been gone if I had known."

"It's your right to be here. After all, it's your job now, isn't it?" Daryl said without turning to him.

"My shift's not up for another hour, but … if you'd rather I left–""

"Not necessary," Daryl said without emotion. He walked down the hall and stood outside of the den a moment before opening the door. Then he slowly turned the handle, hoping to see something different. Once again, he was disappointed. Nothing had changed.

Daryl went into the private patient room and stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the man lying there. He looked so peaceful, just like he was sleeping. If it wasn't for the gauze wrapped around his head, no one would know he was injured or in a coma. He even had that slight curl to the corners of his mouth, as if he was smiling.

Daryl took a seat in the chair by the bed. He laid his hand on the man's arm and rubbed it gently. "Hey, Aaron. I'm here. You look good today. I think a little more of your color is coming back." Daryl longed to hear him speak, to answer him, to make a joke, anything, but there was nothing but silence, just like it had been for the past two weeks. He looked up at the IV bag. It was nearly full. Denise told him that if he stayed in a coma much longer, someone would have to go out and find more supplies. They were running low since they had used the same thing for Tara. Without hesitation, Daryl volunteered to go. Glenn did too. Abraham said that if no one else would go, he would. They would go to every hospital, clinic and doctor's office in Washington, D.C. to find what they needed, no matter how overrun it was.

"I moved in today," Daryl said enthusiastically. "I, uh, I didn't unpack yet. You know me. Hard to plant my feet and all. Carol doesn't trust me to keep the place clean. She knows how you hate a mess, and she insists on being our cleaning lady." He forced a chuckle, wishing Aaron would join him. On the side table was a bouquet of wild flowers. Maggie had told him that Sasha came by with them. She was doing better, but it was taking her a long time to adjust to Alexandria, especially after losing Bob and Tyrese. She was trying, Daryl thought. That's what Aaron would have said, anyways. "Not much else going on. Morgan hasn't made up his mind to stay or not. He and Rick have been at odds. I guess they go back a ways, come from the same county or something like that. Caleb asks about you all the time. A lot of people miss you, Aaron, but especially me. I wish you'd wake up and come home. I miss you. I-I need you, you know? We had plans." He sounded desperate, but it made no difference. There was no response from Aaron, not even a flinch.

"If you don't wake up soon, I'm gonna have to go out and find more medicine. I know you don't like it when I go out alone, so Glenn and Abraham are coming with me. If I'm not here for a few days, that's where I am, but I promise I'll be back."

"When are you going?" Eric asked from the doorway. He stood there with clean towels.

Daryl hadn't heard him come in. "Not for a few days yet."

Eric walked into the room, and put the towels on a shelf next to some blankets and other things for the patient. "I … heard you say you moved into the house. You think that's a good idea?"

Daryl didn't care for his tone, even though it was only tinged with jealousy. "Aaron asked me to move in with him, and I told him I would."

"And how many times did you turn him down before you agreed?" Eric berated.

"I'm not going to have this discussion. You got something to say, then just come out and say it," Daryl demanded. "Or are you going to start with the blame game again."

"You already know how I feel," Eric said.

"Yes, and you remind me every chance you get."

"Well, it's true. If it weren't for you, Aaron would have been far away from this place. He'd still be walking and talking, and–"

"You mean he'd be with you," Daryl growled.

"He'd be safe," Eric countered.

"I think you got that backwards. Who was the one that ran away that night because the big man with the bad mouth scared you?" Daryl accused. "Maybe if you had grown a pair of fucking balls, he'd still be with you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Eric asked angrily.

"He was only with you because he felt he had to protect you. He was always worried something would happen to you. Poor defenseless little Eric can't take care of himself."

"That's bullshit," Eric yelled.

"Well, I don't see you volunteering for a shift in the watchtower, or going on a supply run. Hell, I don't even see you doing gate duty. But the infirmary needs a candy striper, someone to run errands, change bed pans or wash sheets, and you're first in line … far from any danger. How many times did Aaron put his ass on the line for you?"

"Fuck you, Daryl!" Eric shouted.

"Fuck me? Who's willing to risk his life to go out and find medicine for him?" Daryl stood from the chair and threatened to approach Eric. Surprisingly, the tall thin man stood his ground, even if his back was pushed up against a bookshelf.

"And who loved him and wasn't afraid to say it?" Eric retaliated. "That's what I never understood. I told him how much he meant to me every chance I got. I showed him and I said it often, and still, it was you he went to. It was you he wanted, even when you denied him. He wouldn't give up on you, and after all I did to make him realize how much I loved him."

That hurt Daryl more than anyone could know. Whether it was stubbornness or foolishness, Daryl couldn't say he loved Aaron until it was too late. Now he laid there in a coma, and he might never wake up. "I do love him," Daryl said softly.

"Then why couldn't you ever tell him?" Eric said in a quiet non accusing way. "After all, that's all he wanted from you."

"He knew how I felt."

"He wanted to hear it. It's not the same thing."

Daryl walked to the window and looked outside. The sun was setting. A mom was calling her kids inside. A flock of geese were heading for the pond where they'd stay for the night. It was all too perfect, except for the fact that Aaron wasn't with him. If he was, Daryl wouldn't be having this conversation with Eric. "What the fuck do you know about it," he complained.

"He told me once. He said he told you he loved you, but you couldn't say it back."

"Well, I don't see how it's any of your business," Daryl said, his anger on the rise again.

"Because we might not have been a couple any more, but he was still my friend and the only other person around here that was willing to listen to my problems. Jesus, Daryl, don't you see? He gave up everything for you. The moment you arrived in town, I had no chance with him. He talked about you, and how he thought we could all be friends. He told me how he was helping you adjust to life in Alexandria, and how you were trying to fit in. He said you were a lot like us, shunned by even those you thought were your friends. And any time I tried to tell him he was spending too much time with you, or talking about you obsessively, he would get mad and shut down. That's when I started to realize he had feelings for you. And I tried to do what I could to dissuade him, but he'd have none of it. I had to sit there and watch him pine over a man who, in my eyes, couldn't give a shit."

There was a metal tray on a table next to where Daryl stood, just begging to be knocked onto the floor. "I don't give a shit? Is that what you think?" He swung his arm, pushing the tray over the edge, making it crash on the floor, and everything on it scattering. The sudden move made Eric throw his hands up in front of his face, just in case Daryl was going to throw something at him. Daryl took the opportunity to rush Eric, grab him by the collar and get in his face. "I give more of a shit than anyone in this whole fucking town. Who else has been with Aaron every single night, sleeping on this piece of shit couch, praying that he will wake up, fearing that he won't, terrified that I'll have to be the one to put a knife through his skull. Are you going to do that, you pussy son of a bitch? No, because it all falls on me … because I love him more than anyone else in this whole goddamn place." Daryl released Eric, pushing him so that he fell backwards against a dresser, knocking a vase to the floor and smashing it to pieces. "So don't give me your fucking bullshit, Eric, because there's only one person in this room who–"

Suddenly, Aaron made a moaning noise, drawing Daryl's attention away from bashing in Eric's face. Both men stopped everything, even breathing, to hear it again. Aaron's eyes were moving behind his closed lids. It was the most they'd seen from him since he was hit with the bat.

"Aaron?" Eric called out from across the room, struggling to stand up without cutting his hand on the broken vase.

Daryl rounded on him. "You stay the fuck back," he seethed, and then he went to the bedside. Daryl took up Aaron's hand and stroked it. "Hey Aaron. Come on, man. Wake up. You can do it."

Aaron moaned again, his voice sounding raw and gravelly. His head moved a little to the side.

"He's awake," Eric said. "Aaron, it's me."

Daryl glared at him from over his shoulder, then turned back to Aaron. "I'm here. It's me, Daryl. Wake up."

Aaron furrowed his brows and parted his lips. "W-Water," he moaned.

Eric was closest to a pitcher of water. He poured a glass and went to the bed. Daryl grabbed it from him, and pushed Eric back. Then he put an arm behind Aaron's neck and lifted him forward a bit. He held the glass to Aaron's lips and tilted the cup until the water barely touched his lips. Aaron drank a little, but he coughed, not used to using the muscles in his throat. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the light in the room. "Oh, my head," he complained.

Daryl smiled. "You're awake. I've been praying for this moment. God, you're finally awake."

"W-What happened t-to me?" he stammered, struggling to form his first words in two weeks.

"You were clubbed in the head. You've been in a coma, but you're awake now," Daryl told him.

Aaron blinked a few more times. He looked up at Daryl's face, a smile already on his lips. It was the greatest thing Daryl had ever seen, that smile. He smiled back. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you t–" Aaron cut his words short and the smile disappeared as his eyes focused on the man before him. "W-Who are you?"

Daryl huffed with humor. "It's me, Daryl. Who else do you think it–"

"Where's Eric?" he asked.

Daryl didn't understand, except for the fact that Aaron must have heard them fighting before he awoke. "He's here." Daryl took hold of Aaron's hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed Aaron's knuckles, but Aaron yanked his hand away.

"What are you doing?" Aaron asked, confusion on his face. "Eric?" he called out.

Eric looked at Daryl before he moved. Daryl glared, upset with Eric, but confused by Aaron. Now was not the time to cause any more of a scene than they already had. Aaron was probably very fragile right now, having just woke up. Reluctantly, Daryl moved away and allowed Eric to approach the bed. "I'm right here, hon," Eric said, smiling down at him.

"Eric, what happened? Where am I?"

Daryl watched Aaron reach out and take Eric's arm. Eric covered his hand. "You're in the infirmary." Eric looked back at Daryl. "One of us should go get Denise."

"You better hurry," Daryl said.

"Don't go," Aaron said to Eric. "I'm … I'm so c-confused right now."

"Daryl, be a doll and run along."

If looks could kill, Eric would have been chopped into a thousand pieces right now. Daryl looked back to Aaron. He was watching him. There was something in Aaron's eyes, as though he was trying to place Daryl's face, but it just wasn't coming to him. "Do I … know you?"

"I'm Daryl," he said.

Aaron closed his eyes and thought hard. Then they flew open with recognition. Daryl's heart started to soar. "I know who you are. You came in with that group. There's a bunch you."

Daryl laughed nervously. "Come on, you're kidding, right? It's me, Daryl. I'm … I'm your, uh–" Lover, his heart said. "I'm your friend," he said instead. Too much pushing would not be good right now.

"I-I know who you are. I recognize you, but … I-I don't remember us being friends."

"Maybe that's because we're actually–"

Eric cut him off. "You should really go and get Denise, just in case something happens."

Aaron was still staring at Daryl with complete confusion. He could see the disappointment on Daryl's face and felt bad. "I'm sorry. I just don't remember right now."

"Let's slow things down a bit, ok?" Eric advised. "Daryl, you go get Denise, and then we'll start sorting all of this out."

"Can I speak to you a minute first? Out in the hall?" Daryl inquired threateningly.

Eric nodded and went reluctantly. Daryl closed the door to the room, and in one swift movement, pinned Eric against the wall by his neck. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything," Eric protested.

"You're with him all day. Were you filling his head with shit while he was sleeping, trying to alter his unconscious thoughts?" Daryl accused, his hand tightening around Eric's skinny neck.

"You're with him all night. Who's to say you weren't filling his head."

"Because it's you he's asking for. I swear, if you've done something–"

"I did nothing of the sort. I don't know why he thinks were still together. He WAS hit in the head. He doesn't have all his memories back yet. Maybe he just needs time," Eric tried to justify. "Please, just go get Denise in case Aaron slips back into a coma again."

Daryl's eyes narrowed on Eric, but he agreed to go. He released Eric, who rubbed his throat, and then he stormed off to go find Denise.

* * *

"Oh my," Denise smiled as she rushed into the room to check Aaron. "This is a surprise."

"You're not the only one. They're telling me I was in a coma," Aaron said. "Must be why I feel so weak."

"You'll have to do some therapy to get your strength back. I'm sure Daryl will want to help you with that," Denise said, unaware of Aaron's memory loss. Daryl leaned into her and whispered what they knew so far. She frowned. "What is the last thing you remember?" she asked him.

"I don't know, bits and pieces I guess."

"Well, do you remember getting hit in the head?"

Aaron thought a moment, and then shook his head. "No. I think I remember talking to Eric. We were standing around a fire. He was upset and wanted to go home. I didn't go with him, but I don't know why."

"You suffered a major concussion. Your brain swelled. That would be enough to make you forget certain events that happened that night," Denise informed him.

"What about Morgan," Daryl said.

Aaron shook his head. "Who is Morgan?"

Denise reminded him. "You and Daryl brought him in the same night you were injured."

Aaron shook his head with confusion. "I don't know about that."

"We were gone for days looking for survivors. We were in trouble. Morgan saved us. Don't you remember any of that?" Daryl said desperately. "Y-You asked me to . . . And I-I agreed that I w-would . . ." His words faded as he saw the blank look on Aaron's face. He didn't remember their conversation about moving in together.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I just can't recall it right now," Aaron apologized. He glanced at Eric and smiled, reached out and took his hand. "I'm glad you're here," Aaron said.

Eric smiled back, but he looked nervous and out of sorts with Daryl standing there.

Daryl couldn't stand much more. Everything they'd been through together was wiped from Aaron's memory. It was as though Daryl never existed. "I think I'm going to head home." He went to Aaron and laid his hand on Aaron's arm. "I'm glad you're awake. We missed you around here."

"Thank you Daryl. I hope I'll remember more of you," Aaron said sincerely.

Daryl gave a guarded smile. "Yeah, I hope so too."

As he was leaving, Denise ran out the door after him. "We just have to give him some time. I think his memory will start to come back to him. Don't get too discouraged about this. You have to remember the trauma he's been through."

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Daryl said, and he was gone.

* * *

He didn't go back to the infirmary for a couple days. Daryl couldn't bring himself to look like a stranger in Aaron's eyes. He thought that maybe if he gave him some time he might start to remember. But to stand there and have him call for Eric just about broke Daryl's heart. He moved back to his old house too. There was no point staying at Aaron's house when he didn't even remember. He told Carol what had happened, and she said he gave up too easily.

"You think Eric is going to try and jog his memory? Hell no. As far as he's concerned, Aaron is back in his life and you're out of the picture. It's like a dream come true for the little snot," she complained. "Now you listen to me. You're going back there, you're going to tell Eric to get the hell out, and you're going to talk to Aaron … alone."

"You telling me what to do?" he said in a threatening tone.

"You better believe it. Now go," she demanded.

Daryl did as she said, and went to the infirmary that day. Denise was happy to see him. She quietly escorted him to Aaron's room. He was asleep, and Eric was sitting on the chair next to the bed, reading a book. Eric look up and set the book down. "You're back," he commented.

"Eric," Denise said. She glanced at Aaron and then at Daryl, gesturing for Eric to give them some time alone.

"I don't know if–" Eric started to protest.

"Go," Denise said in a tone no one knew she had.

Eric had no other choice but to leave the room. He glared at Daryl as he passed him. Daryl didn't know he had it in him to be so aggressive. He could understand why, though. Aaron was important to him. Well, Aaron was important to Daryl too.

With Eric gone, Daryl took up the chair by the bed. Denise took a quick look at a monitor, checking his vitals. She smiled kindly to Daryl and silently left the room, closing the door behind her. Daryl leaned forward, the leather of his winged vest crackling as he moved. The noise woke Aaron, his eyes fluttering open, and falling onto Daryl.

"Oh, hey there," he said, surprised. "W-Where's Eric?"

"He stepped out for a bit. Left me in charge." Daryl said. "How you feeling today?"

"Not bad, I guess. My head still hurts … a lot. I'm dizzy when I try to get up, so I haven't started walking yet," Aaron said with a hopeful smile.

"It will take some time. I remember when I was recovering from that sickness, and I couldn't get out of bed right away. It sucks. But you were there to help me," Daryl reminisced.

"I was?"

"Yeah, you stayed with me every night, talked to me while I was out of it. You were there when I took my first steps, and you helped me walk."

Aaron searched his memories with no luck. "I'm sorry, but I just don't remember that."

"It was a while ago, so–"

"You said we are friends," Aaron mentioned. "We must be very close for me to have stay with you while you were sick."

"Yeah, we, uh, we hit it off right away. Actually, you were the one who found my group and brought us here," Daryl told him.

Aaron thought about it a moment. "That seems familiar to me."

"That's good," Daryl said with enthusiasm. "Yeah, you apparently followed us for a while, left bottles of water in the road with a sign that read–"

"From a friend," Aaron finished. "Wow! I remember that, and … and a man … Rich, no wait … Rick. Yeah, Rick. He's your leader." Aaron closed his eyes and thought. "There was a storm coming, a really bad storm. You came out of the woods, and told them you found a barn where they could take shelter." Aaron laughed with excitement. "I can't believe I remembered all that."

"That's amazing, Aaron," Daryl said.

Aaron stared at Daryl a moment. Something about the way he said his name was familiar, but it was probably because they were friends. "Eric said we worked together as recruiters. So tell me, are we successful?"

"I like to think we are. We make a great team, anyways."

"Where all have we gone on our recruiting runs?" Aaron asked.

"We've been different places, wherever Deanna sends us." Should he tell Aaron about the cabin? It might help him remember. He decided not to bombard him with too much. "We've brought a few people back to town, and they have worked out very well for Alexandria."

"That's great," Aaron said with little energy. "It sounds like we've done great things here. I just hope I will eventually remember."

It was getting to be a little too much for Daryl. Time to make his exit. "Well, I just wanted to see how you were. I better be on my way."

"Alright," Aaron smiled. "Come by any time, Daryl. I enjoyed talking with you. And … you know where to find me," he joked.

"I do," Daryl replied. Their eyes locked, and Daryl's were almost begging for Aaron to remember him, to remember them. Instead, Aaron looked as though he felt slightly awkward by the private moment. Daryl turned his eyes down and away. "Well, I'll see ya." With that, Daryl left.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 New Beginnings**

Daryl kept himself busy for the next few days. He visited Aaron from time to time, but not every day, and only when he knew Eric wasn't there. Aaron was remembering things better, but his memories were sporadic. He still hadn't remembered that they were a couple. He still thought that he and Eric were. Carol gave Daryl a hard time about it, told him to tell the truth, and stop letting Eric run the show. Daryl wished he could do that, but he knew that was the wrong way to go about it. There was a chance that he would chase Aaron away. At least right now they were friends.

Aaron was doing better, but he was still at the infirmary. He was suffering from severe migraines, the kind that made him throw up, where the slightest bit of light made his head feel like a hot iron rod was being shoved through his temples. Denise said it was an effect from the head trauma. He was lucky to have full control of his limbs. She'd seen patients like him, back when she was an ER nurse. Sometimes they lost the use of a hand, an arm, a leg, or all of the above. Therapy helped, but it wasn't always a cure. Sometimes Daryl wished Aaron lost the use of one of his limbs in exchange for his memory. It was awful having him not remember. Daryl often felt like the outsider, especially when Eric was around. Yet, there was something missing between them, even though Aaron thought they were still together. That fire, that burning desire wasn't there, not like it had been between Aaron and Daryl. If only Aaron would recognize that, but in his state of confusion, he was clinging onto Eric like a drowning man to a buoy. Eric was Aaron's only stable object in his topsy-turvy world. To take that away from him right now might make his memory shut down completely. Daryl had to be smart about it, introduce familiar things to Aaron in a way that wasn't pushy, and let him remember on his own.

It was the afternoon on this particular day, and Daryl knew Eric wasn't at the infirmary. He'd seen him going home, probably to shower, eat and change. Daryl took the opportunity to pay a visit to Aaron. He didn't stop by yesterday, and hadn't been there since the previous morning. When he opened the door, he heard Aaron speaking loudly and sounding agitated. Daryl went right to the room to see what was going on. Denise was there, helping him with his therapy.

"But I want out of this bed," Aaron was complaining.

"All in due time, but not yet," she said trying to calm him.

Daryl peeked around the corner, and Aaron saw him. "Oh, thank goodness, Daryl, try to talk some sense into her, please."

"What's going on?" Daryl asked.

"I think I'm ready to start walking, but Denise says no. I don't understand what the big deal is."

"What's the hurry?" Daryl inquired, going to the foot of the bed.

"I just want to go home, that's all. Why can't I just go home?" Aaron argued.

"For one, you can't be alone right now, not with those migraines you've been having," Daryl advised.

Aaron looked at him oddly. "What are you talking about? I'm not going to be alone. Eric is there."

Denise glanced at Daryl with confusion. "But I thought he lived–"

"You just need to make sure you're healthy enough to leave," Daryl interrupted her. Internally, he wished to punch a wall. So, Eric was filling Aaron's head with lies, or at least letting him believe that they were still together, even to the point of moving back into the house. That must be where Eric was headed. He was going home to pack his shit and move it back into Aaron's house. "Have you even been out of bed yet?" Daryl asked, curbing his ire.

"No, but–"

"Then I don't see how you're going to leave just yet. Hell, when I was here, I tried my damnedest to get out, and they wouldn't let me go until I could walk on my own," Daryl said.

Aaron looked at Denise for an answer. "I want to start walking."

"I'm not sure you should–" she started to say, but Daryl put his hand on her arm.

"I'll help him. I know what to do. I've already been through this myself. And, after all, it was Aaron who helped me then. Time I returned the favor."

Denise looked back and forth between the two of them. "Now?" she asked.

Aaron smiled wide and put his arms out to the side. "I'm ready. Got nothing else better to do."

"We'll just start with having him stand," Daryl told her. "Trust me, I know what to do."

"Alright, I guess," she agreed reluctantly.

"If you don't mind, can we do this alone, just the two of us?" Daryl said, gesturing with his eyes that he wanted some private time with Aaron. Denise was smart, and she picked up on it right away.

"Fine, but standing only, no steps, and if you need anything, I'm just up front. Holler," she said.

"You got it," Daryl agreed, and watched her leave the room. He turned back to Aaron. "Ready to do this?"

"Yeah," Aaron said with relief that someone was finally giving him what he wanted.

"Alright, first thing is to get you sitting up." Daryl pulled the covers away, revealing Aaron's blue boxers and white t-shirt. He took his legs and swung them over the edge of the bed. Aaron twisted with him, his palms planted on the mattress, and he sat there a moment, looking down at his lap.

"Woah," Aaron said.

"You alright?"

"Just dizzy. It's the furthest I've been out of bed."

Daryl stood directly in front of him, just in case. "Take your time. Let me know when you're ready to stand." After a few seconds, Aaron nodded. "Alright," Daryl said. "First, you're gonna move to the edge of the bed and make sure your feet are flat on the floor." Aaron did as he said. "Ok, now I want you to put your hands on my shoulders or around the back of my neck if you need to. I'm going to hold you by the waist, and then together we're going to stand."

Aaron looked a little scared, but he nodded in agreement and did as Daryl said. Daryl bent his knees, Aaron put his hands on Daryl's shoulders, and Daryl got a hold of Aaron's waist. "On three," Daryl said. "One. Two. Three."

Aaron tightened his grip on Daryl's shoulders. Daryl held him securely at the waist, and together they stood. Aaron laughed, amazed that he was out of bed after so long, and Daryl coaxed him with words of encouragement. "That's it, man. You've got this."

Aaron was caught up in the moment, and didn't realize his leg muscles were already giving out. His knees bent and he started to fall. Daryl immediately surrounded Aaron's waist with his arms, and took all his weight. Aaron's arms hugged Daryl's neck. They were front to front, holding each other tight. Daryl tried not to let it affect him, but it had been a long time since they were in each other's arms.

"Alright, let's get you sitting on the bed," Daryl told him.

"No, wait," Aaron protested. He concentrated on his wobbly legs and regained control. Soon he was standing again with little support from Daryl. Daryl didn't let go, though.

They looked as though they were in a lover's embrace, and Daryl let himself enjoy the feel of Aaron in his arms, even if it was just therapy. Then Aaron surprised him. "You, uh, you smell nice. You smell … familiar."

"It's called soap," Daryl said with a huffed laugh.

"I know, but I feel like I've smelled it before."

Daryl thought and remembered the time they'd taken a shower together at his place. They had taken turns lathering each other up, and it ended with Aaron up against the shower wall with Daryl plowing into him from behind.

"Why does it seem so familiar?" Aaron asked.

"You, uh … you took a shower at my place," Daryl told him. "Do you remember that?"

Aaron thought hard and eventually shook his head. "No, no I don't."

"Too bad," Daryl said to himself. He helped Aaron to sit back down on the bed. He'd let him rest a bit and then they would try it again.

"I don't know, but it feels like there is something more, not just a shower, you know? I can't put my finger on it though."

Daryl wanted badly to tell him that they'd made love, and that's what he was trying to remember. Should he just come out and tell him? He wanted to more than anything. Maybe if he eased him into the memory. He sat down next to Aaron and remembered that day as though it just happened moments before. "Well, we'd been out, you know, outside the walls. I was teaching you how to track."

"You were?" Aaron said. He hadn't known that before.

"Yeah, you said you wanted to learn to do what I do. Anyways, you, uh . . ." Daryl stopped to laugh as he remembered that day. "You were checking something out by a creek, animal prints or something, and you lost your footing when your boot got stuck in the mud. Ha, you went down on your ass, and you couldn't get up because of the mud suctioning your shoe. I helped you up, and when you went to take a step, you went, but your shoe stayed. Then you lifted your other foot and it was stuck too. You turned and fell again. You were so damn dirty and pissed, probably because I was laughing the whole time. And then you started throwing mud at me. I'll tell you, it was a sight to see, both of us covered in mud. Anyways, we got back to town, and … well, my house was closer and … we just … we went in and … and . . ." Daryl was so caught up in telling the story and reminiscing, he forgot that Aaron didn't remember. Aaron was listening and smiling, laughing like old times. "You got in the shower first, but you were worried about the hot water running out. You, uh … you asked … me … to–" Daryl wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to tell him that they fucked in the shower, and when they were through, they went to Daryl's bed, fucked all night, and didn't get up until late the next morning. But Aaron wasn't looking at Daryl with that same passion like he used to. He was looking at him with the trust of a friend. Suddenly, Daryl wondered if this was what Aaron's life would have been like if his group had never come this way, if Aaron and Eric had never spotted him and invited them to Alexandria. Maybe this was Aaron's chance to live the life he was meant to have, with Eric instead of him. Perhaps what Daryl and Aaron had was only meant to be a dream.

Aaron was still smiling, waiting for Daryl to finish the story. "What did I ask you?" he wondered.

Daryl looked down and away. "You don't remember any of this, do you?"

Aaron shook his head. "I'm trying, but it just isn't coming to me. But it sounds like we are really good friends, and I'd like to keep that. When you tell me about something we did, even though I don't remember, I feel like I could easily put myself in the story. So that must me something. Right?"

"Sure," Daryl said quietly. Then he found the courage ask something. "Are you happy with Eric?"

Aaron seemed a little put off by the question, but he answered it none the less. "Yeah, why? Shouldn't I be?"

"I mean, are you really happy? Does he treat you right? Does he give you all that you ask for? Does he tell you he loves you without hesitating?" In other words, did he do all those things that Daryl had trouble doing and saying.

"Eric told me that we've had our ups and downs, but we've managed to work through the tough times," Aaron told him.

What a crock of shit, Daryl thought, but he had to bite his lip to keep from saying it aloud. "Well, I guess that's all that matters then. As long as you feel it deep in your own chest."

"Yeah," Aaron responded, sounding a little confused by Daryl's line of questions.

"Well, listen, you did good, but you probably need to rest," Daryl said to change the mood in the room.

"Actually, I was wondering if we could try it again," Aaron said.

"I … uh, I gotta get going, but I'll tell Denise before I leave. Ok?" Daryl stood and went to the door. He needed to get out of there. The whole place felt like it was closing in on him.

"Alright, if you have to. Uh, hey, Daryl?" Aaron called out as Daryl was stepping out the door. He stopped, but he didn't turn to Aaron, and waited for him to speak. "Thanks for everything."

"Yeah, it was good," Daryl said and he left, closing the door behind him. He stood in the hall a moment, hand still on the doorknob. It was good … while it lasted, but it was all just a dream now. Daryl waited too long to say and do the things that were important to Aaron, and that were important for their relationship to move forward. That was over now. Aaron was back with Eric, and it was as though they'd never separated.

* * *

A few days later, Aaron was well enough to leave the infirmary. His migraines were becoming less and less as his head healed. Denise was doing therapy with him, and he was walking again, having regained the muscles in his legs after lying in bed for so long. Of course, Aaron went back home, and Eric was there with him. The problem was, Eric was not helping him remember much. He was careful who visited Aaron, and who knew what kind of stuff Eric was letting him believe. Aaron knew people, and he remembered certain events. He remembered some of what happened when he met and convinced Rick and the others to come to Alexandria. What he'd blocked out completely was ever having been with Daryl.

Meanwhile, news in Alexandria was that Alison and a group of people who were following her, decided to take up residence on the other side of the lake, in a part of the community that wasn't occupied. She wasn't being exiled, and she wouldn't leave the town voluntarily. Rick was keeping close tabs on them, and so far they weren't a problem.

Daryl was meeting with Rick to find out what was on the current agenda. He didn't trust Alison, and he told Rick as much. "She still preaching her Nazi bullshit about rebuilding a perfect society?" he asked as they sat at the kitchen table in Rick's house.

"I don't know, maybe. The fact is, we have more people on this side of the lake than she's got on hers, and that's good. But the real problem is what lies outside the gates. There's more walkers all the time, like their gathering."

"Or someone is gathering them for a war," Daryl interjected.

"What do you mean?" Rick asked, wanting Daryl's opinion, which he trusted more than anyone else's.

"I keep seeing more walkers with a W carved in their heads. They've been marked, like someone's property. And all those walkers at that warehouse were purposely being stored in those trailers. Why would anyone want to collect them? What purpose would they have for them?" Daryl said, to get the ideas running.

"Well, I guess if you had the manpower and the knowhow, you could control them to a degree. They're attracted to sound. It would be easy to herd them all together, but why?" Rick wondered aloud.

"You get a big enough herd and they'll trample anything in their path. Walkers only want flesh. They don't want guns or goods," Daryl suggested.

"Someone could be directing them, taking out established communities, rounding up the dead once they've decimated a place, and then going in and taking over. Remember Noah's neighborhood? It wasn't the most secure place, but they had security. They were overrun by walkers, though."

"They were also cleaned out of any supplies and weapons," Daryl added.

Rick thought about it for a bit. "You think they know about Alexandria?"

Daryl shook his head. "I don't know, but if they did, I think they'd already be here."

Rick nodded in agreement. "Well, winter is setting in, and we know walkers slow down in the cold temperatures. Now is the time to get ready. We have to get these people prepared. That's all there is to it. They need to be taught to fight."

"We need to get Deanna to agree," Daryl told him.

"Leave that up to me. In the meantime, I want you to head up weapons training. Get with Glenn, Michonne and Sasha, and start forming groups to work with. We need everyone able to participate." Rick paused and looked down at his rough callused hands. "I've done a lot of things to get us here. We all have. We've been separated and reunited for a reason. Alexandria is ours, and to keep it that way, we might have to get our hands dirty again. We've tried to keep ourselves and our place safe in the past, and we've been run off." He stopped and shook his head. "I'm not running anymore. I'm not giving this place up to anyone, and I sure as hell ain't letting no one take it away from me."

"I get that, but who you planning on fighting against?" Daryl asked.

"Anyone who gets in my way," Rick said, referring to Alison and her people.

Daryl wasn't sure he agreed with Rick. After all, they needed as many people as possible for whatever might be coming to Alexandria. "We might need them, Rick."

"You're going to stand here and defend the same people who said you don't deserve to be here because of who you are?" Rick argued.

"They can threaten me with words, it don't hurt me none. They can hate what I am, and call me queer, so what. But if they're willing to fight to protect this place, then I say we need them as much as they need us. Alison doesn't want to lose this place any more than you. That's what you need to focus on. There will be time for arguing later, but if Alexandria falls, there won't be anything to argue over."

Rick stood from the table and paced the floor. "You almost sound like Morgan. Life is precious and all that. What happened to don't trust anyone? People don't change, Daryl. I've seen it too many times. The Governor, Terminus, Gabriel … Shane." He said the name quietly. "They all turned on us or fed us a bunch of bullshit to believe in. That's why it has to be my way. I have to be in charge, and I need to know that you've got my back."

Daryl watched Rick a moment. He was a man on the edge, and even though his intensions were genuine, he didn't always make good choices. Of course, things worked out so far. They had all made it to this point in the aftermath of a fucked up world. Daryl just thought that there were some things that didn't have to go down the way they did. He wasn't putting all the blame on Rick. He'd never do that. Daryl was responsible for some poor decisions too, but he felt that he learned from his mistakes. He wasn't sure Rick had. For now, though, Daryl was with Rick. He waited until Rick looked at him for an answer, and then nodded. "I got your back, man. I always do."

* * *

Weapons training was off to a rough start. There were people here that had never held a gun, let alone loaded one and shot one before. Daryl was frustrated, not only with the training, but with the fact that Eric had become overprotective of Aaron. A couple times, Daryl tried to visit, see how Aaron was doing, and Eric managed to have some excuse for him. There was no telling what kinds of things he was telling Aaron. Daryl worried that he was coming up with all kinds of lies to turn Aaron against him. Maybe that was why Daryl hadn't seen him around lately. Of course, Daryl was busy with his own agenda.

Daryl and Glenn were taking a break from practice, discussing their situation with training. "You know," Glenn said frustrated. "No one taught me how to do this shit. I had to learn it for myself."

"My dad taught me how to shoot as soon as I was old enough to hold a gun," Daryl remembered. He looked around at the residents. "Before this, these people didn't know anything. They were accountants, lawyers, ad execs, nine to five white collar workers. They got lucky to find Alexandria, and they haven't had to change all that much from their former lives."

"They have no choice any more. Still, I'm worried at how prepared they will be when it comes down to it," Glenn said. He looked out across the way, squinting against the sun. "People are going to die."

"People have already died, and nothing's happened yet," Daryl reminded him. "We keep going like this, and there won't be anyone left to fight."

Glenn nudged Daryl in the ribs and gestured for him to turn around. Daryl glanced over his shoulder, and was surprised to see Aaron coming towards them. "Looks like you have a visitor," Glenn said. He patted Daryl on the shoulder and walked away to get back to his group. He nodded to Aaron as they passed each other. "How's it going, man?" Glenn asked.

"It's good," Aaron smiled kindly. "Getting better every day." He glanced at Daryl. "You guys busy?"

"Just taking a break," Glenn said.

"Mind if I, uh–" Aaron said carefully.

"Go ahead," Glenn told him.

Aaron nodded in thanks and went over to where Daryl was standing, inspecting his gun. "Hey," Aaron said, not sure what else to say.

"Sup," Daryl responded, not looking up from his busy work.

"I, uh, I heard you were giving lessons," Aaron said.

"Just helping people prepare."

Aaron stepped closer to Daryl. "You still taking students?"

"Who? You?" Daryl stopped what he was doing and gazed at Aaron through his long hair, one eye trained on the man. "You don't need it. You're a good shot. Always have been."

"That's what Eric tells me." Aaron seemed a bit embarrassed to be asking. "I was hoping for a refresher course."

Daryl looked back at his gun and started messing with it again. "Group meets here every morning."

"Actually, I was hoping for some private lessons," Aaron said. That made Daryl stop what he was doing and look Aaron directly in the eye. Aaron explained. "You said we worked closely together, and that we saved each other's asses along the way. I thought maybe working with you again might spark some memories."

Daryl thought about it a moment. "How about this afternoon?"

"That would be great," Aaron smiled shyly.

"You bringing Eric with you? Haven't seen him down here. He's another able body who needs to learn to fight," Daryl suggested.

"Just me. Eric is working the pantry," Aaron said.

Dare he let himself get excited about the opportunity to be alone with Aaron? "Alright then. See you, what, about two?"

"Make it three," Aaron offered.

Daryl nodded. "Bring your gun."

* * *

"You always this tough on your students?" Aaron asked after Daryl yelled at him for the thousandth time.

"Do you want to make accurate shots, or do you want to ballroom dance with the walkers," Daryl berated him. "What the fuck, Aaron? You gotta get your head in the game. You ain't shooting for crap. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't fucking know," Aaron countered. He was pissed at Daryl and pissed with himself.

"You used to could take them out at this distance without blinking an eye." Daryl grabbed Aaron's gun from him and started inspecting it. "Did you do something to it?" he asked, as he checked the cylinder and other parts of the gun.

"This is the first time I've used it since the accident," Aaron said.

Daryl glared at him a moment. "The accident? Is that what you're calling it? It was a fucking attack."

"Whatever," Aaron complained. "I don't even remember it."

"Well, I do," Daryl said quickly, making Aaron take a second to observe him. Daryl caught him watching him. "What?"

"I don't know. I guess I never gave much thought about your involvement that night," Aaron said softly. "I didn't realize you were there."

"I was there, front and center." Daryl observed Aaron. "Hasn't anyone spoken to you about it?"

Aaron shook his head. "No. Eric said he left before that. All he knows is that I was hit in the head, knocked unconscious, and brought to the infirmary."

Daryl huffed cynically. "It was a lot more than that." He shoved the gun back at Aaron. "Time's up. You're out of ammo." Daryl started to walk away, but Aaron ran to catch up with him. They were outside the gates, in a place where they could practice shooting, and where they could see all around them in case they attracted any unwanted guests. It was only a ten minute walk back to town.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Aaron asked desperately.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Daryl said, continuing along the dirt path to town.

"Why not?" Aaron insisted.

"Because your memory is all screwed up, and I'm not sure telling you everything all at once is such a good idea."

Aaron stopped walking and watched Daryl keep going. "I want to remember," he called out. "It's my choice. I know I can handle it."

Daryl stopped and hung his head. "Why? It was horrible. Why would you want to remember that?"

Aaron walked forward until he was next to Daryl. "Ever since I woke up, I've felt like I've been living some else's life. I feel like an outsider in my own body. I mean, some things I remember, but other stuff I don't. Eric has been telling me a lot, and it helps, but I feel like I'm seeing it through his eyes, not my own. I just don't feel complete for some reason, even with Eric's help. Something is missing. Something's not right, and I just don't know what it is."

Daryl watched Aaron, saw the desperation in his eyes. "You've got Eric. He loves you. Hell, he cherishes you. He can give you everything you need. So what if you can't remember. Just be glad there's someone in your life that won't hesitate to make you happy."

"You know, for someone who's supposed to be my best friend, you're not helping out much," Aaron griped.

Daryl crossed his arms and stared at Aaron with annoyance. "Alright, what exactly do you want to know?"

"Well," Aaron started. He didn't think Daryl would give in this quickly, and he fumbled the questions in his head. "Tell me about what led up to my injuries. What did we do that day? Where did we go? Why was there a fight? How did I get hit?"

"Slow down there," Daryl stopped him. "To start with, we had been out on a recruiting run for a few days. We came across a guy in a red poncho, and we were tracking him. The trail ran cold though. Anything sound familiar yet?"

"The red poncho, I think I remember or at least it sounds familiar." Aaron closed his eyes and thought. "It rained while we were out, didn't it?"

Daryl's heart lurched in his chest. "How'd you know?"

"You said the trail ran cold. I remember being physically cold … cold and damp. I can almost smell rain in the air," Aaron reminisced.

Daryl watched him, almost hopeful. "Yeah, it did rain, our last night out. We, uh, we found an abandoned camper, and stayed there to get out of the weather." Should he have told Aaron about that? It wasn't relevant to what led up to the confrontation, but it was important as far as Aaron remembering him and Daryl. It was the last time they had been intimate. "We didn't head out until the morning," Daryl added, his voice quiet as he spoke.

Aaron's brows furrowed as he concentrated, but nothing came to him. "I guess it's a good thing we came across it. We'd catch our death of cold."

Daryl felt his heart deflate. "Yeah … well, the next day," he went on. "We were trying to pick up that guy's trail when we happened upon a warehouse."

"What kind of warehouse?" Aaron asked curiously.

"Canned goods, fruits and vegetables. It was called Del–"

"Del Arno Foods," Aaron said excitedly. "I remember the trailers, and the sign on the side. 'How the harvest gets home.' Shit, I remember, Daryl! I remember!"

"Yeah, that's it," Daryl said just as excited as Aaron was.

"So what happens next?" Aaron asked, as though Daryl was telling him a story.

"Well, we decided to check out the warehouse and see if the trailers were full. You went to check the lock on one of them and you saw a license plate."

"Alaska!" Aaron shouted with pure joy. "Yeah, I found Alaska. Eric was dead set on finding one. He must have been ecstatic when I gave it to him."

"Actually, you lost it," Daryl told him, his excitement turning down a bit.

"I did? How?"

"We opened one of the trailers, but it was a trap. There was no food. It was full of walkers. They were rigged to open, all of them at the same time. Each one was full. The yard flooded with walkers. We had to fight for our lives, but luckily there was a car in the yard. We jumped in and closed the doors, but we were trapped."

"What did we do?" Aaron asked anxiously.

"We sat there for a while trying to figure that out. It only came down to one thing. One of us would have to distract the walkers to give the other a chance to run for the gate."

Aaron's excitement dulled. "Let me guess. It was you who volunteered."

"How'd you know?" Daryl asked, looking down and away.

"It just seems like something you would do, sacrifice yourself for a friend."

"You're right. I told you I'd go–"

". . . but to just let you finish your smoke first," Aaron said, repeating Daryl's words.

Daryl looked up at Aaron, amazed by what he could remember. "That's exactly what I said."

"I can still smell the cigarette smoke," Aaron added. "But I wouldn't let you, would I?" Aaron said.

"No, you said we would do it together just like we did everything else," Daryl answered.

Aaron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Suddenly his lips parted and his eyes slowly opened, settling on Daryl. "We … kissed."

Daryl watched him a moment before answering. He wanted to see what his reaction to the memory would be. He hoped it would all come flooding back to him, but Aaron was only remembering that one moment. He couldn't read the man, and looked away from him, nodding his head in answer.

"But I … I thought we were just friends," Aaron said. The confusion in his voice was unmistakable.

"We've always been friends," Daryl answered.

"Were we ever anything more?" Aaron went on inquiring.

"I don't think now is the time to–"

"I need to know, Daryl."

"I can tell you, but you don't remember, so what difference does it make. You've got Eric now. You should just leave it at that." Daryl started walking away again. Aaron didn't stop him this time, and Daryl didn't look back to see if he was following.

That night, Daryl laid in bed, thinking about the exchange. Aaron was trying to remember, but why was Daryl shutting him out? Wasn't this what he wanted, for Aaron to finally remember what they had? It would be a wonderful thing, but it might not be the best thing for Aaron. Daryl new he was hardheaded. He screwed up so many times too. He thought he could conform, and it was a slow process. He had even agreed to finally move in with Aaron, and now this happened. Aaron didn't remember anything about them. And why? Why was his brain blocking that most important information? Perhaps it was because it wasn't meant to happen to begin with. If Daryl had never come to Alexandria, Aaron would still be with Eric. He would have someone who loved him, who wasn't afraid to show it or say it. Eric freely gave Aaron all those things that Daryl fought against along the way. Why would Aaron want someone like that? What bothered him the most was that when he finally admitted his feelings, it was because he though Aaron had died. What kind of shit was that? He was someone controlled by his past, led by his ghosts, someone who would rather live alone than feel. So maybe it was for the best that Aaron forgot about him. Perhaps he could find it in his heart to love Eric after all, but especially if Daryl was out of the picture.

* * *

Aaron went home to Eric, who had prepared a candlelit dinner for them. Eric was right there at the door when Aaron went in, took his coat and kissed him hello.

"Where were you?" Eric asked, smiling.

"I was, uh, I was just out walking around, trying to see if I could get something to spark my memories," Aaron said, deliberately not telling him about meeting with Daryl.

"Did you have any luck?" Eric asked, walking back to the kitchen.

"Not really."

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it. I'd say most of your memory has returned, and although you can't remember some of the minor details, you remember the important stuff." Eric came back to Aaron with a glass of wine. "You remember us," he said seductively, handing Aaron the glass.

They went to the dining room table and sat down across from each other. The candle flickered, playing with the shading of Eric's red hair. Aaron watched him as he dished out the stew he'd made yesterday. Eric always made sure nothing went to waste, and tonight it was leftovers.

"It's better the second time around," Aaron said politely after taking a bit.

"It would have been better if I'd had fresh carrots, but I guess canned would have to do," Eric complained lightly.

"Speaking of canned vegetables, I was talking to Daryl earlier, and I remembered the name of the food warehouse we came upon. Del Arno. Can you believe that? It just came to me," Aaron said excitedly.

"That's wonderful, hun," Eric responded, but he wasn't as excited. "You saw Daryl today?"

"Uh, yeah, he was heading out with a group for weapons training." It was not too far from the truth, except that there wasn't a group. "He said you should join in. Everyone should know how to fire a gun, you know, just in case."

Eric laughed haughtily. "Honey, you know my feelings about guns. Besides, I've got talents that are needed elsewhere. We can't all be warriors, isn't that what you tell me?"

"What if I'm not around to protect you? What would you do? You need to know how to defend yourself. Daryl said that it's just a matter of time before our luck here runs out."

"Daryl is a part of Rick's group, and those people are violent. They want everyone to conform to their way of thinking, but I say we'd do better without them." The ire in Eric's voice was evident.

"I'm starting to think they are right," Aaron admitted. "I know you told me that I didn't agree with what they were doing, but I'm starting to feel that getting knocked in the head had made me think clearer. We have been lucky, very lucky. We've managed to build this community and keep out the walkers, but we haven't taken measures to improve our security. Daryl said–"

"Daryl said, Daryl said," Eric mocked. "You're starting to think like him, even talk like him. Since when do you call them walkers? We've always called them roamers. If you ask me, you've been spending too much time around those people. They'll get in your head, and yours isn't exactly working one hundred percent, not since the accident."

"It wasn't an accident. It was an attack," Aaron corrected.

"Whatever, hon, the point is–"

"You're looking at this too lightly," Aaron said in a raised tone. "Someone tried to hurt me, maybe even kill me, and that someone wasn't one of Rick's 'violent people'. It was someone who's been in Alexandria for a long time, someone who doesn't understand what the world outside the walls is like."

Eric put his spoon down and leaned back in his chair. He gazed across the table at Aaron. "Why do you think I was trying to talk you into leaving this place? I knew what was coming. I heard the rumors. It was only a matter of time before they started weeding out the people who didn't match up to their criteria. We will never fit in here. People like Pete and Gerrard want a utopia of perfect people to rebuild the human race. And people like Rick and Daryl only want people who can fight and kill. We don't measure up to either of those standards." Eric paused and shook his head. "I almost had you convinced to leave this place before the acci—, I mean attack. I still think we should go, but I haven't pushed the issue lately. I've been giving you time to heal and get as much of your memory back as possible. Well, I can't stay quiet much longer. I think you're doing much better, and you've gotten back as much of your memory as you're going get. Things are getting a little too tense around here lately. I honestly think now is our chance to go find that other community and start over."

Aaron looked down at his bowl of stew, suddenly losing his appetite. Eric had mentioned this place before, but Aaron didn't remember their past conversations. He didn't know anything about another community, and he hadn't heard anyone else speak of it either. "How did you come to find out about this place?"

"I was talking to some of the women in town who are concerned about this place for their children, and they told me," Eric said.

"If they are so concerned, then why don't they go?" Aaron asked. He was getting some very odd vibes from Eric.

Eric rolled his eyes. "Because, honey, their men won't leave Alexandria. They are tied to this place, but we aren't. We don't answer to anyone but ourselves." As he spoke, he turned sweet and smiled, coming around the table to stand behind Aaron. "In this world, we only have each other to watch out for." Eric began massaging Aaron's shoulders. "And we want what's best for us, don't we?"

"Well, yeah, but–"

"And what is best is for us to leave this place. We have a chance to start over somewhere new. Here, Deanna expects too much from you. We have bigots who don't want us around. We have people who only care about themselves, who wouldn't give a flying fuck how many people might die in order to protect their own. I don't want to live in a place like that, do you?" He leaned down and laid light kisses on Aaron's neck.

"N-No, I guess not," Aaron stammered, enjoying the seduction. Outside of a peck on the cheek or the lips, Aaron hadn't had any relations with Eric while he tried to regain his memory.

"It can be like it was in the beginning. Do you remember that?" Eric asked in a whisper, his warm breath washing over Aaron's neck.

"Vaguely," Aaron said.

Eric pulled Aaron and his chair away from the table, and then he walked around and straddled Aaron's lap. He wrapped his arms around Aaron's neck. "You came to the pantry looking for honey. We struck up a conversation, discovered what we had in common, and–"

"And I left with a cup of sugar and you as my honey," Aaron finished. "I remember."

"You couldn't wait to get me in bed. We went to your place, which was that apartment in one of the back buildings," Eric continued.

"I'd only been in town for a few days. Everything was still new to me, but I felt a connection with you right away," Aaron reminisced.

"It had been a very long time for both of us. You said, no games, and I let you have your way with me." Eric kissed his jaw and his chin as his fingers began undoing the buttons of Aaron's shirt. "I'll let you have your way again … right now."

Aaron wasn't sure he was ready for this, but Eric was doing a good job of seducing him. Aaron's body was answering for him, and he needed this. He needed to release his inhibitions and get back to his former self. Eric was reminding him of who exactly that was, a man with wants and needs, a man with desires that needed to be quenched. He shouldn't feel anxious. This was Eric, his lover, his friend, the man he trusted. So why did something seem a little off?

"Eric, I don't know–"

"Shh," Eric said, his hands roaming over Aaron's bare chest. "I know you want this." He smiled fiendishly and undid Aaron's belt, button and zipper. His hand slipped inside Aaron's pants and took hold of him. "The cock never lies."

He was right. Aaron did want it. He pushed away his doubts as he pushed away Eric's shirt. Suddenly, he couldn't move fast enough. Eric stood from the chair and undressed. Aaron pushed his pants off, and Eric straddled him again. They kissed fervently, reveling in the feel of naked skin and hardened flesh. They rubbed against each other, taking one another in their hands. Eric had thought ahead, and somehow came up with a small bottle, preparing each of them thoroughly. When he was done, Aaron lifted Eric by the hips and pulled him down onto his cock. Eric cried out with long awaited pleasure, as did Aaron. Eric writhed against him, and Aaron thrust up. They found their rhythm and came quickly, both men trying to catch their breath. Eric laid his head on Aaron's shoulder, biting and nipping.

"I love you, Aaron," he said between breaths.

"I love you to," Aaron said without thinking about it, yet the words tasted strange on his tongue.

After releasing their built up tension, Aaron and Eric went upstairs. Eric seduced Aaron again, but this time they went slower and lasted longer. When they were both satisfied a second time, it didn't take Eric long to fall asleep with a smile on his face. Aaron couldn't sleep though. He laid there in the dark and thought about what had just happened. Something bothered him about their exchange of words. It wasn't the first time Eric had told him he loved him, but it was the first time since the attack that Aaron had said it in return. The words just came out in reply without any thought, but as he said it, he couldn't help but notice he didn't feel it deep in his heart. He only said it because he thought that's how he always replied. The truth was, he couldn't remember telling Eric that before.

Daryl's strange inquiry came back to him. He had told Aaron too look deep in his heart about his feelings for Eric. As he did this now, he definitely felt something missing. Perhaps it was just a piece of his missing memory, but it almost felt as though it had never been there.

The next morning, Eric awoke with a smile, nuzzling Aaron's neck. Aaron couldn't deny that it felt good to wake up in someone's arms. "Good morning," Aaron greeted him, kissing the top of his head. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Pleasantly sore," Eric whispered in Aaron's ear. He took the lobe in his teeth and gently bit. "Last night was . . ." He sucked a breath in through his clenched teeth. "It was magnificent." Eric stretched luxuriously. "It's been such a long time. I missed this, you and me, glorious mornings with you by my side."

Since Aaron came home from the infirmary, he had been taking things slow, and that included his sexual relationship. The first few nights, he slept on the couch. And when he finally started sleeping in their bed, Aaron made it clear he wasn't ready to make love. He was even gone before Eric woke up, usually downstairs making breakfast.

"When you said it's been so long, do you mean since my injuries, or has it been longer?" Aaron asked.

"Honey, what are you talking about?" Eric asked nervously.

"I need to know, Eric. Last night was great. It was wonderful, but I can't help feeling there's a part missing, like a page torn from a book." Aaron sat up on his elbows and looked over at Eric. "Were we having trouble before I got hurt?"

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?" Eric asked, trying to play it off like it was nothing. Aaron wasn't buying it. Now Eric sat up, leaning against the headboard with his hands in his lap. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember."

"I don't remember. That's the problem. But I have an odd feeling about us. I just need to know what was going on with us before," Aaron pleaded.

"Alright," Eric started. "Your assumptions are right. We weren't in the best place before you were hurt. We had our share of problems. Most of it was about the recruiting job. I got hurt. You got upset. I took my leave while my ankle healed. But somewhere along the way, you decided I shouldn't recruit anymore, permanently. You said you couldn't stand to see me hurt again, and that you didn't want me risking my life anymore."

Aaron put his hand on Eric's thigh, and smiled at him sympathetically. "Sounds like I was scared for you. Sounds like I was just trying to keep you safe. Sounds like I cared. Why would that upset you?"

"Because it was Daryl who you were replacing me with," Eric scowled.

Aaron pulled his hand away and turned his head from Eric. Now it made sense, the memories he had of Daryl and the warehouse, of being trapped in the car, and the kiss they shared. Had there been other times that they kissed? Had they done something more? Was Aaron … having an affair? His heart lurched into his throat at the thought. Daryl was supposed to be his friend. Maybe they were actually lovers. "I remembered something else that happened," he said slowly to Eric.

"Oh, you … do?" Eric said hesitantly.

"You know, don't you? It's why we were having trouble before. Daryl and I … we … we had … an affair, didn't we?" Aaron said.

Eric looked confused and shocked, and Aaron began to think that he didn't know. But then his face softened. "Yes, that was it."

"Oh my God, Eric, I'm so sorry. I honestly don't remember it. Up until today, I thought Daryl and I were just friends. Jesus, now I understand why you're so upset about me and Daryl working together again. I've hurt you, and I'm sorry."

Eric waved his hand in the air to ward him off. "We've had this conversation once already. I really don't want to hash it out again. You made a mistake. It wasn't all your fault, though. Daryl seduced you. He played upon your feelings. But we were mending our relationship before you got hurt. We were giving it another try. The only stipulation was that you agreed to never recruit with Daryl again."

"Why didn't you say something?" Aaron asked.

Eric fumbled for the words. "W-well, your head and your memories, and …. I-I couldn't just dump all that on you. Besides, you didn't know who Daryl was when you came out of that coma. I thought it would be better to never bring up your affair since you didn't remember it anyways. It was our chance to start again without all that bad stuff hanging over our heads."

"It might not have been hanging over my head, but surely it was hanging over yours," Aaron pointed out.

"Honey, listen, having you back in my life has been the best thing to ever happen to me, and if you didn't remember Daryl, then so be it. It was like it never happened, and we'd been together all this time. No one ever gets a do over in these situations, but we did, so I ran with it. Why do you think I've been trying to convince you to leave this place? It was our chance to start again without any complications. If you're upset with me, I'll understand."

"Upset with you? I'm the one who cheated and you're worried that I'm the one who's upset?" Aaron took Eric's hands and pulled them close. "I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. If it means this much to you, I'll ask for another recruiting partner."

"What I'd like is to leave Alexandria all together," Eric countered.

Aaron wasn't sure about that. He could understand why Eric felt that way, but he was having trouble seeing that as a good idea, but it was something Eric wanted badly. "I guess we could–"

Eric leaned forward and touched Aaron's shoulder, cutting off his words. "You would do that?"

"Well, I think we should investi–"

"No, let's just go. Please, Aaron? You can make everything right again. Just say we'll go away from here and start over someplace new," Eric begged.

Aaron felt guilty, even though he had no memory of his wrongdoing. Eric seemed so happy to hear Aaron agree with him. Perhaps this was how they would heal. "If it means that much to you."

A tear threatened Eric's eye. "It does. Oh it really does." He smiled and kissed Aaron. "I love you so much." He pulled Aaron down onto the bed and slid beneath the sheets, coaxing Aaron to roll on top of him. They made love passionately to celebrate their new beginning, and Aaron gave no more thoughts to Daryl or what might have happened between them. Whatever it was, that was over. He was back with Eric now, and he would do his best to make him happy.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 Never Give Up**

Daryl was home working on his bike. His garage wasn't as nice as Aaron's, and it was hardly big enough, but it would do. The bike and what tools he had fit. There wasn't much room for all those spare parts that Aaron had collected on his many outings so he had to leave them behind. Most of them weren't the right fit for the Honda Nighthawk, but some of them worked, and Daryl made sure to take those with him.

Since everything that happened with Aaron and Eric moving back in together, and Aaron's amnesia, Daryl decided to keep his distance, especially after their last confrontation. Aaron seemed happier with Eric, and maybe that's the way it should have always been. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss Aaron, but as long as his memories weren't there, they could at least remain friends, he'd tell himself. But he was only fooling himself to think that was enough. The truth was, Daryl was empty inside, maybe more than ever before. Aaron had filled that void in his chest, the one put there by his father and his brother, by Jake. They had put the darkness inside him, but it was Aaron who shined a light so bright it couldn't be ignored. Maybe Carol was right when she said he gave up too easily, but a part of him felt at fault for what happened. He didn't know whether he deserved Aaron's heart, especially since he had been such a prick about giving it up. Perhaps that's why Aaron's memory failed him when it came to what they had. With his mind broken, it gave his heart the chance to close Daryl out.

"I gotta get the fuck out of here," Daryl said to himself as he made the final adjustments to his bike.

"Where you going?" Aaron said, making Daryl whip around and reach for the knife he kept on his belt.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," Daryl complained, heart pounding out of his chest.

"Sorry. I saw your door was open, and I just wanted to–"

"What do you want?" Daryl demanded, returning to his aloofness rather easily.

Aaron came into the garage and picked up a wrench, mindlessly playing with it in his hands. "I thought you needed to know something before I went to Deanna. I thought it was only fair to our friendship."

Daryl reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He had a feeling he'd need to spend one of his precious smokes for whatever Aaron was about to say to him. He struck a match and lit the end until it was glowing red.

Aaron watched him closely, a new serge of memories trying to burst through the protective bubble. "I thought you left those behind in the car."

Daryl inhaled deep, plucked the cigarette from his lips and blew smoke out with a steady stream. "How come you can remember small details like that, but you can't remember–" Daryl stopped himself before he went any further. It didn't matter anymore.

"I don't have any control over it. I see something, hear a sound or smell a familiar scent, and suddenly a piece falls into place. It's kind of like putting together a jigsaw puzzle from the middle to the edges," Aaron explained.

"So, what do you want to tell me?" Daryl asked, getting back on subject.

"Oh, um, well, it's about our partnership … our recruiting partnership," he said to make sure Daryl understood. "I've, uh, I've decided that maybe we shouldn't work together anymore. I'm quitting."

"Oh?" Daryl questioned, taking another drag on his smoke, and trying to act like it was no big deal.

"Yeah, I just don't want it to become awkward between us."

"Huh," Daryl huffed. "Awkward how?"

"I-I'm not really sure, but I can't help feeling as if something happened that maybe shouldn't have. I'm still working on the memory, but one thing I do remember is kissing you in that car. Maybe it was one of those 'it may be the last thing I do before I die' moments or maybe it was–"

"What do you think it was?" Daryl interrupted.

"I don't know. I have nothing to base it on. I have no concept of the time that existed before or after that moment. I just know that something transpired while we were trapped in the car."

"Maybe that's what you need to focus in on," Daryl suggested. The cigarette was almost gone. He took one more drag and snuffed it out in an ashtray sitting on his workbench.

"So what are you saying?" Aaron asked. "Was there something more going on that I can't remember?"

Daryl had his back to Aaron, and picked up a screwdriver from the workbench. He walked back to the bike and crouched down. He started to do something, but stopped and hung his head. "Look, man, I could tell you everything I know … about us, about you and Eric, but it doesn't mean a damn thing if you can't recall anything. Like you said, you feel like you're looking through someone else's eyes. It's never going to be real to you unless it comes from your memories." Daryl stood and finally looked at Aaron. "I wish more than anything you could remember me."

"I do remember you. You're Daryl. You came in with Rick's group. You like to keep to yourself. You distance yourself from just about everyone, including me, apparently."

"I didn't always distance myself … not from you," Daryl said.

"Daryl, what happened?" Aaron pleaded. "Did we have an affair? Were we sleeping together behind Eric's back?"

That little prick, Daryl thought. He knew it. He had a feeling that's what Eric was up to. Daryl could feel the heat rising up from the collar of his shirt. Right now he wanted to storm out, go find Eric and beat the crap out of him, but that wouldn't do anything to help Aaron remember what actually went on between them. Instead, he took a deep breath, deciding how much to say. "You want to know what happened between us? Fine. I'll tell you exactly what happened. You brought me and my group in. You became my friend. You helped me see my way through my past. You showed me how to exercise my demons, how to keep the good memories and control the bad. The truth is, you did a lot for me, and what you asked for in return, I couldn't give to you until it was too late. Now, you don't remember, so it's like it never happened. But at least I can tell you this much." Daryl stood before Aaron and clapped a hand to his shoulder. "What you did for me changed me for the better, and without you, I'd still be miserable." He released Aaron's shoulder and backed away. "So if you want to believe that what happened between us was just some frivolous affair, I can't stop you. I know what happened, and that's all that matters. Now, here's the real kicker. Of all the people in this town, it's Eric that you remember the most. It was Eric you called out for when you woke up from your coma, not me. The way I see it, it doesn't matter what you think might have happened between us before the attack. It's what you recall now that's made its way through the fog. So that must count for something, right?" Daryl turned back to his bike, jumped on and grabbed the handlebars. "Thanks for telling me before you went to Deanna."

"That's it? You're not going to explain it? You're not going to address it? You just agree with me that–"

"What the fuck do you want from me, Aaron? You don't want to work together anymore. Fine. I'm not going to argue because there's no point. Obviously, you think certain things happened between us that makes you feel awkward now, so who am I to disagree with someone whose memory has been wiped clean. This is how you feel, so let's do this." Daryl picked up a screwdriver and waved it in the air as though it was a magic wand. "I release you from any further obligations, claims, or awkwardness. Nothing happened, Eric is your lover, and I'm just the guy you saved from the terrible horrible world outside." Daryl finished his act and slammed the screwdriver down on the workbench. "Now leave. I gotta meet Caleb."

Aaron stared at Daryl, wanting to say something but not knowing what. Something was trapped within him, something he couldn't recall, but that he felt was important. He just came here to tell Daryl he didn't want to partner with him anymore. So why did he feel so bad?

"Dar–" Aaron started to say in apology, but Daryl started up the bike, the intimidating machine roaring to life. Daryl walked it outside and down the driveway. He picked up his feet, anchoring them to the bike, and turned out onto the street. He never even looked back at Aaron, didn't say goodbye or see you later. He just rode away, like all the things Aaron couldn't remember … another memory vanished that he might never get back.

* * *

Daryl rode over to Rick's house where Caleb was waiting for him. He was taking the boy out to hunt and practice shooting. Caleb was standing on the porch waiting with his bow. As soon as he saw Daryl, he ran out to the sidewalk. Daryl stopped, Caleb jumped on, and they headed out. They arrived at their usual spot, parked and made their way into the woods.

"You're quiet today," Caleb said.

"Yeah, well, we're supposed to be hunting not talking," Daryl snapped back. He kept walking and Caleb followed behind.

"You know what today is?" Caleb asked, ignoring Daryl's sour mood.

"Another day we're alive?" Daryl guessed.

"It's Halloween. Well, it would have been if the world wasn't ruined," Caleb said sadly.

"Every day is Halloween now," Daryl mumbled.

Caleb ignored the comment and continued. "Carl said there's going to be a party tonight in one of the empty houses. Him and Enid, and a few of the other kids in town are going to be there," Caleb told him.

"You sure you should be telling me this?" Daryl asked.

"Naw, man, you're cool. I know you won't rat us out. Besides, we're just hanging out, listening to music. Michonne got Carl a shit load of comic books. He's bringing them too."

Daryl stopped and turned quickly, making Caleb almost run into him. "Again, why are you telling me this?" He knew Caleb was up to something.

Caleb slumped his shoulders. He knew Daryl would be suspicious, but his friends made him do it. "Dude, it's Halloween, and life around here has been pretty shitty. We just want to have some fun for a change."

"What do you want?" Daryl demanded.

"We, uh, we were just wondering if maybe you could … uh … score us some hooch."

Daryl stared at Caleb with narrowed eyes, as though he was waiting for the punchline. Then, he huffed and turned back towards the trail. "No," he said tersely.

"Just like that? No?" Caleb said, tagging along behind.

"That's right. No."

"Come on, Daryl. Man, you were a kid once. You partied in your youth. We're not asking for a lot, just enough for a couple shots each. That's it."

Daryl stopped and faced him again. "Oh, is that all? Well, maybe I could swing that. Oh, wait a minute. Uh … No." He took off again, following a trail of deer tracks.

"I thought you were fun. I thought you'd get it," Caleb complained.

"Well, I guess I'm not fun, but I sure as hell get it. You think I'm gonna set you kids up with moonshine, and risk their parents finding out? Give Deanna one more reason to kick my ass out, that's what I'm risking. And what do you think Rick would do if he knew Carl got drunk, and I was the one who supplied the liquor? No fucking thank you. So you and your little friends are going to have to just find another way to entertain yourselves."

"Alright, alright," Caleb said, throwing his hands in the air. "Geez, you don't have to be a complaining douche about it."

"More hunting, less jaw flapping," Daryl reminded him.

They went along through the woods, and Caleb had bagged two squirrels so far. Daryl got a rabbit, but he was still trying to follow the trail left by a deer. He might have looked like he was seriously hunting, but his mind was elsewhere, and his heart was still nailed to the workbench in his garage. So it was really over between him and Aaron. Should he be surprised after the way he seemed to string him along, never giving himself completely over? Why would Aaron remember him? Eric was the one who never hesitated to express his feelings for Aaron, and that's who came to his mind first. Now, he didn't even want to work together anymore. Daryl knew Eric had everything to do with that. It was the perfect opportunity. It was too easy to fill Aaron's head with all kinds of things. He obviously led Aaron to believe that there had been an affair. He probably made Aaron feel guilty about it, and then he played the pity card, and pretended to take Aaron back, especially since he couldn't remember anything. Eric would make it look like Daryl was the bad guy in all of this, seducing poor unsuspecting Aaron, and jeopardizing their pretend relationship. Daryl started to think of ways to get rid of Eric. It wouldn't be difficult to fake an accidental death. The little piss ant was so sure of himself now. Still, there was the fact that Aaron believed anything Eric told him. Bring any kind of harm to Eric right now, and it would throw Daryl in a bad light. Daryl wouldn't play into Eric's games, but time was his friend, and eventually Eric would get his.

"Is everything ok, Daryl?" Caleb asked some time later. "Are you still pissed about the hooch?"

They'd been tracking for a couple hours. It was time for a break anyways, Daryl justified to himself. He found a log and sat down, gesturing for Caleb to sit too. "I'm not pissed about the hooch."

"Really?" Caleb said hopefully.

"I'm still not getting you any either. Besides, my guy's well has run dry with all the shit that's gone down with Alison's group and Rick."

"What's going to happen to her?" Caleb asked.

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know. If it was up to me, I'd send her ass out here. I doubt she'd make it a day."

"You don't agree with Morgan?" Caleb said carefully.

"What does Morgan say?" Daryl wondered.

"He says we should all come to an agreement to live peacefully with each other."

Daryl laughed cynically. "That's never going to happen. No one lives in peace anymore. That bitch, Alison, wants to kick me out for being a queer. She wants Rick out because he's had to kill people."

"And Rick wants her out because she doesn't agree with his rules," Caleb said. "The way I see it, everyone wants everything their own way, and no one is willing to compromise."

"So what are you saying? You think Alison's way is right?" Daryl said in an accusatory tone.

"No, but she's not completely wrong. If we're going to make Alexandria work, it has to be more than just a safe place to be. She's right that it needs to be a new way to live and to grow. She's wrong that it should only be for select people like some kind of country club," Caleb explained. "Rick, on the other hand, he's right that we need to be prepared for anything to happen. We need to be ready and able to protect Alexandria, but we don't want it to be like the Wild West either. He can't just shoot someone or throw him or her out whenever they don't agree with him. That's not productive. You know, you and Aaron have the most important job of anyone in this place. You are bringing survivors here, giving them a chance that they may otherwise not have out there."

"Yeah, well, that's not going to happen anymore." Daryl picked up a stick and pushed leaves around. "I saw Aaron this morning. He quit."

"What? But you guys work so great together. Why would he do that?" Caleb said with disappointment and shock.

"He doesn't remember, plain and simple."

"Shit, man, I'm sorry to hear it," Caleb said with genuine affection.

"Yeah, me too. Aaron's, uh, he's made a different choice, and I'm not part of it."

"He went back to Eric?"

Daryl nodded. "Actually, he thinks they've been together all along, and what he does remember about us, he thinks was just a fling, a mistake."

"But that's bullshit," Caleb said with anger. "It's Eric, isn't it? He's letting him believe that. Fucker, I knew I didn't like him, but I never thought he'd have the balls to–"

"I don't want to talk about it. It's over and done with. Besides, there's more important things to worry about right now."

"Yeah, I know, but … this is you and Aaron. You're not just going to sit back and throw in the towel, are you?"

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do? Eric wins. Game fucking over. The redneck gets blamed again. Meanwhile, Rick is gearing for war, Alison is building her own army, no one is working together, and there's a new threat out here somewhere. I ain't got time for no relationship drama bullshit."

Caleb remained quiet for a while to let Daryl cool down, but he wasn't finished with his opinion. Caleb had been there from the beginning of Daryl and Aaron's relationship. Even though they were careful and didn't speak about it in front of the boy, Caleb felt the chemistry between them as it was developing. Caleb had been in the middle of it all, when Daryl and Aaron found him and saved him from those wicked men. It had been Daryl and Aaron who took him back to see his mother one last time, and who had brought him into Alexandria and saw to it that he got help and a home. And throughout it all, Caleb had witnessed them grow closer, gain each other's trust and respect, and become more than just friends.

"You can't just give up, Daryl. If there's one thing you taught me that's stuck with me and has been my guiding words, it's that you never give up."

Daryl, feeling defeated by Caleb's insistency, now hung his head, and let the stick slip from his fingers. "I don't know what to do. I really don't. Aaron thinks we had an affair. Eric's making him think this is their second chance. It's obvious he's convinced Aaron to quit being a recruiter. I feel like anything I say to Aaron, he'll see as a lie and a way to manipulate him. I could tell him the truth about us, but he's not going to listen. Eric's got his claws in him. There's nothing else I can do unless Aaron's memory reboots."

"Then that's what you need to do. You got to find that one important life changing moment, something you both shared, and shove it right in his face without making it seem like you're doing it. You know, like one of those 'been here before' things. You just play dumb and say, 'wow, that's weird', or whatever. You know what I mean? Force the memories back without actually telling him. You have to show him and let his mind figure it out."

Daryl was starting to feel refreshed about his situation. "You know, that not half bad, for a punk kid," Daryl said, ruffling Caleb's hair.

"Hey, it's the least I can do. After all, it was you and Aaron that found me and brought me to Alexandria. If it wasn't for you two, I don't know what would have happened to me out there." Caleb paused to shove leaves with the toe of his sneaker. "You know what else? It's not just me who feels this way. You may not know it, but you've got more people on your side than you think. Unfortunately, with everything else going on, no one has had time to tell you."

Daryl let Caleb's words sink in. Out of all the people, leave it to a kid to see things for how they really should be. He bumped his shoulder against Caleb's. "Thanks."

Caleb shrugged his shoulders. "It's just the way I see it. Doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot."

"It means a lot more than you know, kid," Daryl said with a rare smile.

"Cool," Caleb said, satisfied that he could help. "So, now that I've helped in some small way, perhaps you might change your mind about scoring some hooch for the party?" he asked carefully.

"Still no. Sorry. Now come on. We got more hunting to do," Daryl said to him. They stood from the log, brushed the dirt from their pants and went on their way. An idea started to form in Daryl's head. It was time to get back on track, and stop mourning the loss of Aaron to Eric. He was going to stop moping around, and reclaim what was his. He'd seen the look in Aaron's eyes when he remembered the kiss in the car. It was there, everything that they'd ever meant to each other, but it was locked away. Daryl just needed to figure out how to break down that barrier. But first and foremost, Caleb shed some interesting light on the situation with the townspeople versus Rick. Daryl wanted to talk to someone about Caleb's thoughts on Alexandria. It wasn't too late to find mutual ground. Something could be done, but it needed to happen soon. For now, lines were drawn and everyone was on their good behavior, but the tension building between the two sides would eventually stretch too thin and pop. And once that happened, things would get real ugly, real fast.

"Hey, Daryl. Look at this," Caleb said, interrupting Daryl's thoughts.

Daryl looked back and found Caleb looking at a tree. There was a W carved into it. "Shit," he said quietly.

"Is that the same as the walkers you talked about, the ones with the W on their heads?" Caleb asked.

"Looks like it. Whoever it is, it's like they're marking their territory like a dog," Daryl said.

"Or a wolf," Caleb mentioned.

The word struck Daryl so suddenly, he forgot to take his next breath. "I've seen that."

"Seen what?"

"Wolf. I've seen that word somewhere. It was painted on a wall of some burnt out community we passed by," Daryl said, putting the pieces together. He still didn't understand what was going on. "It said, Wolves not far. I didn't thinking much of it. It was just some graffiti painted on a wall. Now I'm wondering if it's connected with the marked walkers."

"I don't want to stay around and find out," Caleb said nervously looking around.

"Better not. Let's get back." Daryl led the way out of the forest and back to the bike. They hopped on and rode straight back to town without stopping.

* * *

When Daryl got back, he went to Michonne instead of Rick about the carving on the tree. He wasn't sure about Rick anymore. He had changed lately. The whole thing about running the town was beginning to run Rick. He was preoccupied with the safety of Alexandria and keeping Alison at a distance. He wasn't seeing beyond the walls lately, and there was definitely something brewing out there, creeping closer like a fog slowly rolling across the land. Michonne said she would see what she could do, and start by increasing the number of guards in the watchtower to keep a look out for any signs of invaders. But without a direct threat, there wasn't much else to do for now. Staying alert was about it.

The next thing on his agenda was to try to see what he could do about Aaron. He needed to find a way to get him alone without Eric around, spend some time with him, maybe get him to remember something that they shared. Daryl hadn't seen much of Aaron lately. Eric was doing a thorough job of monitoring him. The little shit was up to something, but Daryl didn't know what. He decided to enlist Carol to help him. She was glad to do it. She wanted to see Aaron back with Daryl as much as Daryl wanted it. He went to her place, and together they tried to think up a plan.

"What about a dinner party. We invite them. I keep Eric occupied and you get Aaron to yourself," she suggested as she rummaged through the fridge.

"For one, no one is doing parties anymore, not since all that shit went down." Daryl was not impressed. He went into the living room and sat on the couch.

"You said he likes to play cards. I could ask him to sub at one of the older ladies' bridge groups."

Daryl shook his head. "It needs to be more of a distraction."

Carol rolled her eyes as she closed the fridge door, emerging from the kitchen with two beers. "How 'bout I just stick a fucking gun to his head and shove him in a damn closet." She shoved one of the beers at him.

"Well, shit! I don't fucking know," he complained loudly. "I ain't never had to do anything like this before."

"You want to know what I think?" She took a swig of her beer and sat next to him. "I say you just march right on over there, knock on their door, and demand to see Aaron. Then you whisk him away after you threaten to punch Eric's head into his neck if he tries to follow you, and you and Aaron spend some time together reminiscing. Hopefully, something will strike a chord and he'll start to remember."

Daryl stared at Carol a moment, not sure what to think. She could still surprise him sometimes. "Punch his head into his neck?" he repeated.

Carol's mouth flapped like a fish gasping to breath. Then, realizing how straight forward she could be, she laughed, and Daryl joined in. "I don't know what you want me to tell you," she said when she caught her breath. They calmed and both leaned back into the couch. "I know you miss him."

"It's more than that. Yeah, I miss him, but … shit, sometimes I wish we'd had a fight and split up. It would be easier to deal with than to have him look at me like a stranger or an acquaintance. I don't understand. He used to see me and his whole face would light up. Now he sees me and it's, 'here comes that Daryl guy again'. How can he not remember?"

Carol laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled into him. "He's in there somewhere. He's just trapped. Aaron loves you and you know that. What you need to do is find his trigger. There's something that the two of you shared that has a significance to it, something that will make his mind blow open and allow all those memories to come pouring back to the surface. It could be a word or a gesture. It could be an object, a touch, a smell, but whatever it is, that's the key and you hold it."

"I just don't know what that key is," Daryl said discouragingly.

"First thing you need to do is stop making yourself scarce. He's never going to remember if he never sees you. So if you see him, go to him, make casual talk, throw in something that only you and he would know. Get him thinking. That's what you need to do." Carol lifted her head and kissed his cheek. "I'll do anything you need me to do to help you out."

"Thanks, Carol," he said, as he looked bashful. Of all the people around him, besides Aaron, Carol knew him best. She was his constant support, and there were times when he thought he could never make it without her.

Daryl went home and laid in bed, trying to think of certain things that might jog Aaron's memory, but it was difficult. It had to be something important, something only they shared. A word, a saying, a smell, a look, a touch, the list went on and on, but he couldn't pinpoint anything trigger worthy. There was one thing, but it wouldn't be easy, and he couldn't bring it to Aaron. He had to bring Aaron to it. That would be a tough thing to carry out, especially now that Aaron made it clear he didn't want to go out on any more runs. So, how could he pull this off without Eric getting in the way? He gave a second thought to Carol's offer to shove him in a closet, and laughed. If worse came to worse, he might resort to that, but he'd have to try things his way first. It might take a little help from someone besides Carol, and he knew just the person.

* * *

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Glenn asked. It was a few days later, and Daryl had come up with a plan.

"It has to. It's the only way I can get Aaron to go with me," Daryl assured him.

"Alright. So, where do you want to do this?" Glenn wondered.

"I know he goes to meet Eric at the pantry everyday around eleven, and then they have lunch by the lake. Luckily, the shortcut to and from the construction site goes right by there." Daryl had been watching Eric and Aaron to see what their daily routine was.

"Did we have to fake an injury? What if they want to see my foot?" Glenn said nervously.

"That's why we stuck a nail in your shoe. If they want proof, we show them the sole." Daryl looked down at Glenn's sneakers. "Is it ok? It's not actually hurting your foot is it?"

"No, it doesn't go all the way through." They walked a few more steps closer to the bushes where they decided to wait until they saw Eric and Aaron. Glenn still seemed unsure. "What happens if I get to the infirmary, and Eric waits around to see the injury?"

"I got you covered. Carol will be there. If Eric causes any kind of trouble, she'll get him out of there. You might have to limp around for a couple days."

Glenn rolled his eyes. "Well, I hope for your sake they buy this routine. You know I don't do well in these situations."

"You'll do just fine. Stick to the script and everything will work out," Daryl assured him. He watched from his hiding spot and saw Aaron and Eric just making their way to the lake. "Look. There they are. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Glenn said reluctantly.

They made their way towards Aaron and Eric behind bushes and trees until they were closer. When they came into view, they started the show. Glenn threw his arm around Daryl's shoulders, and Daryl played the role of Glenn's crutch. Glenn started moaning as though in pain, limping and favoring his right foot. Daryl quietly coaxed him to keep moving.

"Ah shit, it fucking hurts," Glenn complained.

"I know, man, but it's not much further to the infirmary," Daryl told him.

Eric and Aaron heard the commotion and looked up. Instantly, Aaron's brows furrowed with concern, and he left Eric to see if he could help. Without a thought, he took Glenn's other side to help him walk. "Oh my God, what happened?"

"I was at the construction site talking to Abraham, and as I was leaving, I stepped on a fucking nail," Glenn said.

Now Eric was there, and he looked down at Glenn's foot. "That can be dangerous. How bad is it?"

"It's gone into his foot," Daryl said. "I got to get him to Denise so she can have a look."

"Yeah," Glenn continued. "What sucks is that me and Daryl were about to make a run for some construction supplies. Abe and his team are in need of basics, screws, nails, hammers, and any electric tools we can find."

Daryl took over the story. "They're in the middle of an expansion and that area is vulnerable to a breech. Me and Glenn said we would run out and see what we could find, bring it back ASAP so they could at least get the last couple panels up in the wall."

"The wall is vulnerable?" Eric asked looking uneasy by that information.

"They're going to keep guards on it until it's fixed, but yeah, it isn't going to be very secure until we get back with supplies," Glenn told him. He shook his head and looked at Daryl. "Now that my foot is hurt, we're going to have to hold off until I can get a replacement, and it's not easy to find someone on such short notice."

"I'll go," Aaron volunteered out of nowhere.

Immediately, Eric was shaking his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I used to do runs all the time," Aaron said to convince him.

"W-Well, you're still recovering. You don't have all your strength back yet," Eric said to make an argument.

"I haven't done much of anything lately," Aaron countered. "I don't feel like I'm carrying my weight around here."

"For once I agree with Eric," Daryl said, speaking up. "I'm not sure you're ready yet. Remember shooting practice? You were way off your mark."

"I've gotten better," Aaron argued. "I've been practicing."

Daryl was a little thrown off. He hadn't known. "You have?"

"Yeah, I … uh … I've been getting a little help from Sasha," Aaron said.

"Really. She didn't say anything," Daryl hinted.

"I asked her not to."

"And obviously she keeps her word because I didn't know anything about this either," Eric scolded.

"I knew you'd try to talk me out of it. I just want to be useful again," Aaron told them.

"Listen, I'd love to stand around and argue, but I've got a fucking nail in my foot, so if you don't mind," Glenn chimed in. He was doing a good job of faking an injury so far.

"Eric, come here," Aaron demanded, and Eric listened. Aaron lifted Glenn's arm from his shoulders, and put it on Eric's. "Help get him to Denise. I'm going with Daryl."

"What? No!" Eric said in a panic.

"I'm not asking for your help," Daryl told him.

"I know you're not, but you said that without these supplies, Alexandria is vulnerable. I want to make sure that's not the case."

"Aaron," Eric pleaded.

"Foot's really killing me here," Glenn said to speed things along.

Aaron kissed Eric's forehead and smiled. "I'll be fine. It's only for a day or two, right?" he said turning to Daryl.

"Depends on how far we gotta go to find supplies. Could be a few more days than that."

Aaron nodded. "Whatever it takes, but the longer we stand here and argue, the longer the town is vulnerable. Eric, go ahead and get Glenn to the infirmary. Daryl and I are heading out."

"I really wish you wouldn't," Eric pleaded again.

"I know you want to protect me, but I'm ready. I need to get back out there," Aaron said.

Eric put his hand on Aaron's chest and looked at him with worry. "You always were the type that did whatever you wanted. Get something stuck in your mind and you don't stop until it's done. Just be careful out there, and come back as soon as you can."

"I will," Aaron smiled. He and Daryl watched Eric take a hobbling Glenn off to the infirmary.

Daryl waited until they were far enough away before he spoke. "You positive you want to do this … with me? Wasn't but a few days ago you told me you didn't want to work together anymore."

"I know, but this is kind of an emergency. I'll make an exception this time."

"Alright, well … we should probably take your car."

"Ok. Just let me get a few supplies together, and I'll meet you at the gate."

A little while later, Aaron pulled up to the gate in his car. Daryl walked around to the driver's side and stood there. Aaron just looked at him, not sure what he wanted. Daryl opened the door. "I'll drive," he said.

"I know how to drive a car, Daryl. I didn't lose all of my memory," Aaron complained.

"You don't know where we are going and I do. It'll be faster if I drive."

Aaron glared at him a moment, and then got out of the car, went around to the passenger side, and got in. He didn't look very happy, but he didn't argue anymore. Daryl filled the driver's seat, and they were off.

"Where we going?" Aaron asked after they got out on the open road.

"I got a couple places in mind." He got quiet again, not knowing what to say. It felt like he was deceiving Aaron, like he was kidnapping him. In a way he was, at least from Eric. This was the only way, though. "I really appreciate you doing this. You didn't have to you know."

"I know, but you were in a tight spot. I thought it was the least I could do." Aaron got quiet this time, and that awkwardness crept back in between them. "So, uh, we used to do this all the time, huh?"

"Pretty much. Usually I'd take my bike and you'd take the car, but it's a bit cold for the bike."

Aaron closed his eyes and thought hard. "I hate not remembering things. You can tell me anything, and I just have to take your word for it."

"You know I'd never lie to you, right?" Daryl said.

"I trust you. You haven't done anything to make me doubt you."

Not until now, Daryl thought to himself. "So, how's life with Eric?"

Aaron squirmed a bit in his seat. "It's good. He's helped me a lot. I … I just, never mind."

"You just what?" Daryl asked.

"I know he's watching out for me, but I wish he'd let up a bit. Sometimes I feel like he's my guardian, like he's got me on a short leash."

"Sounds like trouble in paradise if you ask me," Daryl commented.

"We have our ups and downs, the highs and the lows. But I know he loves me, and he just wants what's best for me … for us." Aaron shook his head. "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear about that."

"Not really," Daryl murmured.

They drove on a little further, and Daryl quietly contemplated what all Eric must have told Aaron. Had he painted him to look like a real douchebag? It wouldn't be surprising if he had. What must Aaron really think of Daryl with Eric's opinion as the only source of information? Carol was right. He should never have abandoned Aaron. He should have fought harder to get him back. Instead, he left Aaron to Eric's devices, who filled Aaron's mind with who knew how many untruths. Would his plan even work now or was Aaron's memory too far gone after Eric replaced it with his lies?

Finally, Daryl reached their destination, and he stopped the car, pulling it off into a stand of trees and undergrowth to hide it. He got out and went to the trunk, handed Aaron his bag and took his own.

"Where are we at?" Aaron asked. "I thought we were driving to some abandoned neighborhood."

"Yeah, we are, but there's a place I want to check out first. I saw it a long time ago, but I didn't stop. Looked like an old shack or something. I figure a place like that out in the middle of nowhere would have tools and whatever."

It was Daryl's plan to take Aaron back to their cabin in the woods, but to not tell him about it. He wanted to recreate the day they found the cabin, and hoped it would spark something in Aaron's mind. The cabin was significant to their relationship. They shared many firsts there. It had always been a symbol of safety, a place where they could be themselves without any reservations. Daryl hoped this atmosphere would loosen Aaron's memories too. He also hoped that the cabin was still deserted. It had been a long time since they had been there.

They walked through the forest for a while, and luckily there had been no walkers or anyone else. Daryl paid close attention to their surroundings. There were no recent tracks, no fresh broken branches. Everything was going according to plan. Time to put on a show.

"Damn it," Daryl said.

"What is it?" Aaron asked, reaching for his revolver. "Did you see something?"

"It's what I'm not seeing. We should have reached this place by now. I could have sworn it was around here somewhere."

"Well, are you sure this is the right area? I mean, how can you tell one tree from another? Honestly, I don't know how you do it," Aaron commented.

"I was sure this was it. It's set back pretty far off the beaten path." Daryl paced back and forth. "Maybe this isn't it. I hate it when I'm fucking wrong."

"Uh, Daryl?" Aaron said from behind.

"What," Daryl said out of feigned frustration. He turned to find Aaron looking off into the distance, and Daryl smiled to himself. It worked.

"I think I see something that way. Could that be it?"

"Only one way to find out. Let's go have a look." Daryl led the way and Aaron followed behind.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23 Deja Vu**

Daryl and Aaron cautiously made their way to the cabin. Even though Daryl was acting, he still took this part seriously. Walkers tended to roam into the most peculiar places. The cabin had been closed off to intruders, but you never knew what might sneak inside, and with the mysterious 'W' branding, people were a threat too. People were always a threat, Daryl reminded himself, possibly more so than walkers. He put aside his concerns on that subject and went back to his original plans for Aaron. This just had to work, he repeated in his mind. If he could recreate the first time they found the cabin, maybe Aaron would remember. It was all or nothing for Daryl. He wanted nothing more than to get Aaron back, and that was all he cared about.

"Wow, you were right," Aaron said as they approached the cabin. "There is something here. Looks kind of rough, though. You think we'll find what we need inside?"

"I'm hoping like hell we will," Daryl answered as his heart beat loudly. "We need to clear it first. Make sure it's empty."

They made their way to the front porch. Aaron looked in the windows. "I can't see inside."

"Look up there," Daryl said, gesturing to the cameras on either side of the ceiling.

"For a rundown shack, that's some high-tech equipment," Aaron pointed out.

Daryl watched as an odd look fell upon Aaron's face. "You ok?"

"I think so," Aaron answered, furrowing his brow. "It's probably nothing."

Daryl tried the handle of the front door. "It's unlocked." He nodded towards the door, signaling for Aaron to open it so he could barge in with weapons at the ready. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three." Aaron forced the door open and Daryl charged in, swinging his bow back and forth as he scanned the place for anything moving. It was as silent as a grave within, which was a relief.

Aaron flipped a light switch, but nothing happened. "I don't know why I did that. We're not in Alexandria where there's power."

"Force of habit," Daryl said. "We'll go room to room and clear the place."

"Have we … done this before?" Aaron asked.

"What do you mean?" Daryl wondered whether he meant here at the cabin or in general.

"Is this how we work together?" Aaron said as he looked around in the dark.

"This is what anyone does when they find an abandoned building," Daryl told him. He was being vague on purpose. If Aaron was going to get his memory back, he'd have to do it on his own. Daryl wouldn't put any ideas into his head.

"I know that much, but–" Aaron paused and looked down and away, as though searching for an answer at his feet. "Never mind. Let's do this."

"You sure?" Daryl said.

"Yeah, I guess it's just been a while since I've done this."

"You need to focus," Daryl warned. "If something's in here, you need to be ready." He wasn't playing the game now. He wouldn't put Aaron at risk.

"No, I'm good. Let's go."

They entered the cabin and started making their way through, sweeping the rooms as they went. Daryl noticed that it still looked the same. Everything was in place and orderly. No one had come in and ransacked the place. He went to the master bedroom that he had claimed as his own, and found it as he'd left it last. Aaron made his way to the other side where the spare rooms were. After a while, they met in the living room and verified that it was clear of intruders.

"I'm taking the master," Daryl claimed, just as he had before.

"I'll take one of the spares," Aaron said. "Hey, look what else I found." He led Daryl towards the kitchen. "Look at this place. Someone spared no expense on comfort. Not exactly what I'd call roughing it."

"Did you see out back yet?" Daryl asked, hoping to lead Aaron towards the lake view. That was an important part of their past visits to the cabin, and although the water would be too frigid for swimming, Daryl hoped that just seeing it would invoke something.

"Holy shit," Aaron commented. "Look at that view. It's beautiful. And there's a boat house and a dock. This is a place I could have only dreamed about."

"It's like something out of Homes and Gardens," Daryl commented, just as he had originally.

Aaron's head whipped around and he looked Daryl right in the eyes. _Please remember_ , Daryl thought to himself. "Homes and Gardens," Aaron reminisced. "I haven't heard that name in a long time. I used to like looking at all the nice things that I'd never have." He looked out over the lake again. "How do you suppose this place hasn't been discovered yet?"

Perfect, Daryl thought. This was just how it was in the beginning. "It's all about positioning. The house is built on a slight incline. You can't see the lake until you're right up on it." He waited for Aaron's reaction, but there was none. Damn it, he cursed. "Hey, let's go check out that boathouse, make sure it's empty."

They headed out the back door, and as they walked past the fire pit, Aaron stopped. "There's ashes in there. Someone has used this."

"Since there's no electricity, it would be a good place to cook," Daryl said.

"I think there's fishing rods in the mudroom," Aaron said, surprising himself.

"What?" Daryl asked so he would repeat it, and hopefully start figuring things out for himself.

"I don't know why I said that. I didn't know there was a mudroom." Aaron looked extremely confused.

"Seems a likely place to find stuff like that," Daryl said so Aaron wouldn't become suspicious. "Besides, this is an outdoorsmen paradise."

"Yeah," Aaron said, not completely convinced.

They continued on to the boathouse and Aaron looked through a window. "There's a boat inside. Nice one from the looks of it."

Daryl's mind went back to their time here, when he came down with the sickness and stayed in the boathouse while Aaron and Caleb stayed in the cabin. Aaron had come back with blankets and booze. They talked through the door for the longest time. It was before they admitted their feelings for each other, or at least before Daryl had. Aaron was already trying to get Daryl to open up, but of course, he was being his usual defiant self. Wasted time, he thought now. When Aaron wanted him, he denied who he was and what he was feeling. All he wished for now was that Aaron would remember what they had.

"I'll go in and check out the boat. You stay out here and keep watch," Daryl said.

"Sure thing," Aaron agreed.

Daryl was gone for a bit before he came back out. He handed a note to Aaron, the one left by the previous owner of the cabin. "Looks like he checked out early."

Aaron read the letter, and that same look crossed his handsome face once more. "Ever feel like you've been there and done that before?"

"Yeah, they call it déjà vu. Why, is that happening to you?" Daryl wondered carefully.

"Ever since we came to this place, I can't help feeling that I've been here before."

It was working. Daryl's plan to jog his memory was starting to loosen everything trapped in Aaron's mind. But what would he do when it all came back? Would he be pissed at Daryl for tricking him? Would he be glad? Or would it be too much to handle all at once. It was a chance Daryl was willing to take, even if Aaron decided to never speak to him again.

"Let's go back to the house," Daryl suggested, closing the door to the boathouse.

"Didn't you find any supplies for Abraham in there?" Aaron asked.

Daryl almost forgot that part of the scheme. "Oh, well, there was some rope and other boat kind of things. We'll gather it up before we leave. I think we'll have better luck inside the house."

Aaron agreed and they went back. As they walked, he looked up into the canopy of the surrounding trees. "Sun's going down soon. We should probably hurry so we can get back to the car before it gets dark."

"About that," Daryl said, cupping his neck with his hand. "Maybe we should hold out here for tonight. Head back out tomorrow. It feels pretty safe here. What do you think?"

Aaron glanced around the area. "Yeah, I have to admit that I get some good vibes about this place. You know, if we find poles, we can probably catch some fish."

"That would be great except I'm afraid we won't find much at this time of year. Water's gone cold and all the good eatin' fish have gone deep or gone away. I bet we'll find something in the kitchen. From the looks of it, this guy was ready to hide out here for a while."

Aaron smiled genuinely for the first time. "Sounds like a good idea. Actually, it would be nice to rough it here for a bit."

Once inside, Daryl directed Aaron to go off towards the wine cellar while he rustled up some canned goods for dinner. Aaron came back with a bottle of red and a bottle of white. "I didn't know what you'd find so I brought one of each."

"Great. Hope you like Italian from a can," Daryl said, holding two cans of spaghetti Ring-O's.

"I'd eat a horse right now if–" He stopped himself, and had the oddest look on his face. Aaron closed his eyes, his brows drawing together, and concentrated. "There was a horse, wasn't there?"

Daryl's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"Buttons," Aaron said eagerly. "His name was Buttons, and you and I tried to capture him."

"Wow. That was back when we first met. Yeah, we were out and came across him. You said you tried to catch him, but he wouldn't let you get close."

"And you walked right up to him, sweet talking that huge beast. Your voice was so soothing, like you'd done that a thousand times," Aaron remembered. "I was completely amazed by that. God, I remember it like it was yesterday."

Daryl went to Aaron and stood before him. "You said I was like that horse, let loose and turned wild, but longing to be introduced back into society. You figured me out long before I did."

"I can't believe that just came back to me," Aaron said with a smile.

Daryl was so elated by his words, he didn't think twice as he took hold of Aaron and pulled him in. "I've been praying for you to remember me for so long now. God, I've missed you something terrible." Daryl tilted Aaron's head as he leaned in and captured his lips. Aaron was reluctant at first, but as Daryl deepened the kiss, Aaron started to respond. Just as he did, he pulled away from Daryl and turned his head. "What are you doing? I can't. I'm with Eric."

"What?" Daryl questioned, perhaps sounding a bit angry.

"Whatever we did before, it wasn't right. I shouldn't have cheated on Eric with you, and I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I want to be your friend, Daryl, but it can never go any further than that."

"But you said you remembered. If you did, if you truly did, you'd know that—"

"I don't," Aaron said, backing away. "I only remember that time with the horse, nothing else."

"You know, I'm getting tired of this. I've tried to be patient. I've tried to get you to remember. Maybe you can't remember because you don't want to. Well, I'm not playing second to someone who doesn't deserve you. You need to really explore your feelings for Eric. You need to go deep and look inside your heart, and tell yourself what you really feel. Is it coming from you or is it coming from what Eric chooses for you to believe." Daryl's tone was threatening, but he didn't care anymore. "You know what?" He snatched the bottle of red from the counter. "I'm suddenly not hungry. I'm going to my room. See you in the morning."

Aaron watched him storm off towards the master bedroom. He felt bad for the exchange that just happened, but it couldn't be helped. He went to bed and thought about what Daryl said, and how he said it. He spoke with such passion, Aaron began to wonder. How much had transpired between them? What exactly had happened? And what did he mean when he implied that Eric wasn't good enough for him? Aaron tossed and turned for the longest time as all those questions and more rummaged through his head. He was so confused, and tired of everyone else knowing the things that he couldn't recall anymore. Daryl was the biggest mystery, though. Some part of him wanted to know Daryl better, while another small part said he already did, but it was locked away. "Why can't I just remember everything? Why is it just bits and pieces? What am I missing?" he thought as he finally drifted off to sleep.

But sleep did not come easily for Aaron that night, and he started getting a strange feeling about this place. Certain things felt familiar, though Daryl never told him they'd been there before. His sudden recollection of there being a mudroom was perplexing. He spoke about it as though he'd always known about it. And as he walked through the home checking rooms, he felt as though he knew his way around. When he sat on the leather couch, there was a soft spot on the seat to the left, which he felt his body ready for as he sat down. And in the kitchen, sitting at the island, he felt a strange ghostly presence, not of a person, but of a time of laughter. But none of this could be real, could it? Wouldn't Daryl tell him if they'd been to this place before?

Aaron closed his eyes again, knowing that the hour was late, but all he saw was the anger on Daryl's face. Why was he so angry, Aaron repeated in his mind? Why did he care so much whether Aaron would remember him?

Suddenly, Aaron heard small samplings of Daryl's voice coming through the white noise of his ignorant brain. And then there were bright flashes behind his lids, each flash revealing another scene. Daryl was in each one. The first was of Aaron and Daryl in the kitchen, laughing and enjoying telling stories. There was another flash, and Aaron saw himself sitting on the floor outside of the door that led into the boat house. He was talking to someone on the opposite side of the door. It was Daryl. He could tell by the voice, but he seemed tired and desolate. Again, there was a flash like a camera's bulb going off, and the scene changed to the fireplace in the living room of the cabin. Daryl was sitting in front of him, saying something, telling his story perhaps. The next flash of white revealed a pair of hands, one of them Aaron's, and covering another's. The hand turned and their fingers intertwined. Aaron could even feel the heat upon his palm, so warm and comforting. It wasn't Eric's hand. His were gaunt with long fingers. This hand in his vision was wide and strong, calloused from hard labor, scarred from battle. This was the hand of a warrior, of someone who constantly took chances, just like . . .

"Daryl," Aaron whispered to the darkness.

* * *

Daryl drank the bottle of wine, but it wasn't strong enough to numb him. As a matter of fact, it put him in too relaxed of a mood, when he should have been drunk on hooch and breaking furniture. Better yet, he'd like to break Eric's scrawny little neck for filling Aaron's head with all the shit he'd wished for. So, he won, and now he had Aaron, had his bony fingers deep into Aaron's flesh and wouldn't let go. Daryl could talk to Aaron until he was blue in the face, but if he didn't remember what they had, if he didn't remember they were lovers and not a liaison, Aaron would never believe that he and Daryl had been the real deal, not Aaron and Eric. Now, Eric had twisted things and convinced Aaron that Daryl was a fling, an intruder into their relationship. Aaron must have thought that Eric was giving him a second chance, and he wouldn't do anything to screw that up, including allowing himself the freedom to remember what happened between him and Daryl. Only Aaron could unlock the mystery.

Well, Daryl thought, he could go back to town and scare the shit out of Eric until he told the truth, but that might only chase Aaron further away. He seemed kind of fragile right now, not ready to face confrontation and all. And every time Daryl tried to get him to have a breakthrough, Aaron rejected him. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he'd waited too long to make Aaron remember. Daryl should have tried from the very start. Instead, he laid low, took a step back, and allowed Eric to become his true conscience.

Suddenly, the cabin seemed too closed in. Daryl couldn't sleep anyways, so he got up and went outside. He walked down to the dock, lit a cigarette, and stood there looking out over the water. The moon was high, not completely full, but close. The lake was like a mirror, and it felt like he was looking down into the sky instead of up. Or perhaps it was more like looking into a pit, an empty hole where nothing could survive, nothing thrived, all thoughts and memories failed to exist. He suddenly wished to jump into that black abyss, and let the emptiness swallow him up until he had no recollection of why his heart hurt so bad.

When he finished his smoke, he flicked the butt into the water, and watched the tiny ripples travel out over the smooth still water. What would he do now? He thought for sure that bringing Aaron here would help, but it seemed to force him further away. The kiss, though. There had been something there, something familiar. Aaron kissed him back, if only for a few seconds, and it felt like it had before. Daryl was sure that Aaron had felt it too. It was undeniable, yet rejection was the result. If only … if only Aaron would . . .

Daryl heard something. Someone was approaching. He pulled his hunting knife from his belt and got ready.

"Hey, it's just me," Aaron said, coming out of the shadows. The moonlight gave off just enough of a glow for Daryl to see him. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Naw, it's alright," Daryl said, putting the knife back. He took out his pack of cigarettes and lit another one. He really couldn't afford to chain smoke, but what the hell. He needed it right now. "Couldn't sleep?"

Aaron shook his head. "No. I've been seeing images, visions of my missing memory, I think. I'm not really sure."

"That's good, isn't it?" Daryl asked.

"You were in them," Aaron told him. He stood next to Daryl, both men standing on the dock looking out across the lake. "I need you to be honest with me," Aaron said in a serious tone. "Have I been here before?"

Daryl watched him from the corner of his eye. He took another drag, and tried to get a feel for what Aaron's reaction might be, but he wasn't giving any signs. Slowly Daryl nodded. "Yeah, we've both been here. That's why I brought you. I thought it might help."

"Did you know about this place before you brought me the first time?" Aaron was very serious, his brows creasing together as he spoke.

Daryl wouldn't lie, and he wouldn't sugarcoat anything. Aaron was finally asking the questions that he needed answers to, and Daryl would give him honesty. "I'd passed this way once with Michonne, but we didn't stop. I recognized the terrain when you and I came this way. We needed a place to crash. We found it together basically," Daryl told him.

Aaron sighed deep and stuck his hands into his pockets. The night air was unbearably chilly, and neither man was dressed properly. Aaron wore pajama pants and a t-shirt. Daryl wore sweats and his biker jacket. Still, they didn't seem to let the cold weather interfere with their reason for being out here together.

"I want to tell you about my visions, but I need you to explain them," Aaron said. "Will you?"

Daryl shrugged. "Like I said before, I could tell you, but if you don't remember–"

"Fuck remembering!" Aaron shouted, frustrated. "I need to know, Daryl. I need the blanks filled in, and for some reason, I trust you not to lie. I think you'll be honest and help me because the only visions I've had have all had you in them somehow."

"I thought you didn't want to know. I thought you wanted to distance yourself from me … you know … since I'm nothing but some fling from an affair." Daryl's anger was evident in his tone, and Aaron picked up on it right away.

"Honestly, I think you're the key to unlock whatever is jailed inside my head. I don't know why I feel this way, but it's strong, whatever it is." Aaron took a step away from Daryl and faced him, but he kept his eyes to the ground. "And … and I don't feel that with Eric." He said it almost as if he was ashamed to.

Daryl took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright. Go ahead."

"I saw us sitting in front of the fireplace, talking about something. You looked worn and tired," Aaron told him. "Why?"

Daryl thought back to that time. "We had just rescued Caleb from a bad group of guys. They did terrible things to him, things that I too had experienced as a teenager, stuff I'd never really dealt with. You got me to open up and tell you my story, and that's what we were doing."

"Oh," Aaron said, sounding surprised.

"Why? What did you think we were doing, having a romantic night spent in front of the fire?" Daryl said condescendingly. "Nothing happened. It was before we got together."

Aaron closed his eyes, recalled the vision and applied Daryl's take on it. It fit, and he was able to remember some of their conversation. "You confided in me. You told me about being raped by a family friend."

"Yeah," Daryl whispered, amazed that Aaron remembered. He didn't want to revisit those appalling times and pushed on. "What else?"

"The boat house. I was sitting outside the door talking to you through wood and glass," Aaron told him.

"Yeah," Daryl recalled. "Before we took Caleb to town, he told us about the group he was with. They were all sick with disease, the same one that swept through the prison where I lived before you found me and my group."

"Caleb's mother was there," Aaron continued. "We took him to see her and to see if we could help, but they were all too far gone."

"That's right. Things were starting to get out of hand, and then some woman coughed on me, splattered me with blood. I knew I was infected, and I insisted on sleeping in the boathouse to keep you and Caleb safe," Daryl filled him in.

Aaron palmed his forehead and searched his mind. "The car was out of gas. That's why we didn't go back to town right away."

"You came back with a box van full of gas and supplies. We threw my bike in the back, and then I climbed in. You rushed us back to Alexandria so I could get help before it was too late."

"I sat with you day and night," Aaron remembered. It seemed odd that he would do that if he was with Eric. He knew for a fact that Eric didn't like Daryl. There was no way he would have agreed to Aaron spending every minute of the day with his sick friend. Aaron looked out at the lake again, contemplating this new information, when he was struck with another moment of familiarness. "And the water. I … I swam here before. And you were standing right where you are now, watching me."

"That was another time we came here," Daryl said.

"We came back?" Aaron asked. "Is this where we came to … be alone?" There was an accusatory tone. Aaron still thought they were only lovers because of an affair.

"It wasn't like that," Daryl told him. "It was never like that." Daryl took a drag, the end of his cigarette glowing red. He exhaled and the smoke floated out over the lake.

"Eric says I … strayed from our relationship after you and I started working together," Aaron stated.

"He does, does he? Well … he would. The question is, what do you think? Never mind what Eric has told you. You have to listen to your soul. Think of what it's like when you're with Eric, and then feel what it's like being right here, right now. What's your heart telling you?"

"Why won't you talk to me?" Aaron asked. "Why won't you just come out and tell me what happened between us? I need to know, because . . ." His words faded away.

"Because what?" Daryl said, trying to get him to continue. "Because you want to believe Eric? Because you want to justify what he's told you? Or is it because there's a part of you that wants to believe whatever I have to tell you?"

"Because I'm leaving Alexandria, and I want to make sure I'm doing the right thing," Aaron blurted out.

Daryl turned to him, looking at him in disbelief. "You're leaving? What the hell for?"

"It's a chance to start over. Come on, Daryl, look what happened. Someone tried to kill me. There's people in Alexandria that don't want our kind there. Who's to say it won't happen again, and maybe to Eric next time?" Aaron explained.

Would it be such a bad thing if Eric lost his memory, Daryl thought, though he kept it to himself. "And how can you be so sure there's another town like Alexandria? We've been all around this damn place, for miles in every direction, and we've never come across another safe zone."

"Eric said he has solid information," Aaron told him.

"Eric says. That's all you ever say anymore. You sure have put a lot of trust in him," Daryl mumbled.

"You have a problem with Eric?" Aaron demanded.

Daryl had a huge problem with the little twat, but now wasn't the time to start an argument. He needed Aaron's mind to be open, not defensive. "No. No problem at all. We just never really saw eye to eye."

"That's what he said about you when I asked him the same question."

"You asked Eric about me?" Daryl inquired.

"I thought he could tell me something about us, about being recruiting partners, about our friendship. He said he tried not to get involved with that."

"Don't you find that the least bit suspicious? He's the one who has you ready to risk your life to find a place that might not even exist, yet he knows nothing about what it is that existed between us," Daryl argued.

"He's the only one who tells me anything. For fuck's sake, I try to get you to tell me things, and you shut down. You tell me to look within. How the fuck am I supposed to do that when all I have to go on is what Eric tells me? If you think there's a reason why I shouldn't leave Alexandria, then tell me." Aaron was angry. It was evident in his tone and in his eyes as he stood face to face with Daryl.

"You want to know why?" Daryl countered with his own anger popping on his words. "Fine, I'll tell you, not that you'll believe me because Eric has gotten so far into your head that you're ready to risk everything." It came out without warning, and now he couldn't stop confessing. "You didn't stray from your relationship. You left him. You left Eric when you and I were only friends, before we found this cabin, before we became lovers. He didn't like me from the beginning, and he sure as hell didn't want us working together. Eric gave you an ultimatum. Either we stopped working together or the two of you were through. So, you made your choice, and he moved out." Daryl stopped, his breathing heavy with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could see the shock on Aaron's face, and it was exactly what he was trying to avoid. It was too much information all at once. It probably looked like Daryl was a desperate man willing to say and do anything, but he didn't care anymore. It was the truth. Daryl's voice softened and he bowed his head as he continued. "He's been lying to you, Aaron. He's been deceiving you, making you think that we had an affair … that you cheated on him with me. That never happened. You … left … him. Now, take it as truth or take it with a grain of salt, but you wanted to know, so there it is."

"Why didn't you say this before?" Aaron asked with suspicion.

"Would you have believed me? Do you even believe me now? When you woke up from your coma, Eric was the first person you asked for. You barely remembered me, and you definitely didn't remember anything about us."

"I'm still not sure I believe, but at least I have another point of view on the situation."

Daryl brought the cigarette up to his lips, but he stopped before he inhaled. He took it away, looked at the glowing ash, and then flicked the half smoked cigarette into the lake. "You need to quit trying so hard to remember and just feel, dammit." He moved so he was standing in front of Aaron, took his chin, and forced their eyes to meet. "Look at me, Aaron. Really look at me. What do you see? What do you feel? Never mind what you've been told by Eric or me, or anyone else for that matter. Just look at me and feel whatever is stirring inside you." He waited until he could see that Aaron was doing exactly what he said. "Do you feel something? Is it the same thing you experience when you look at Eric? Is it more or is it less?" Daryl released him and backed away. He knew when to stop. There was no use pushing Aaron any further. There was nothing more to say. "You don't believe me. I can see it in your eyes. I knew it would be this way. That's why I avoided it, but you wanted to know and now you do. Do what you need to do with the information I gave you." Daryl took a few steps towards the cabin. "It's late and I'm cold. I'm going back inside." He walked past Aaron and headed back towards the cabin.

Eventually Aaron went back into the cabin, but only when he felt sure that Daryl had shut himself in his bedroom. The door was closed, he noticed, and he went to the living room. The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, but he stoked it and added a few more pieces of wood. Then he sat down and drew his knees to his chest. As Aaron stared into the dancing flames, he started processing everything Daryl told him. Was it true? Did he leave Eric? Did Eric make him chose between them and his job with Daryl? Why would he jeopardize his relationship with Eric to keep recruiting? Why was it so important to be partnered with Daryl? All these questions and more flooded his mind. His head was pounding with too much information. It came in too fast to process, and now it was trying to shut down. But Aaron didn't want that to happen. He wanted to remember. He needed to. Daryl's words came back to him. Stop trying to remember and just feel. Aaron closed his eyes and rocked back and forth. He did what he could to get the memories to return, but he felt like he was trying too hard. All he could see was Eric and the panic on his face as he tried to convince Aaron to leave Alexandria. Wasn't that the right thing to do? Wasn't it his job to protect Eric?

* * *

Daryl woke the next morning at the breaking of dawn. He opened the bedroom door and found Aaron sleeping on the couch. He never went to his room last night, Daryl observed. He went to Aaron and pulled the cover up over his shoulders. The light movement made Aaron's eyes flutter open, and they went straight to Daryl. Aaron smiled as he blinked the sleep away, and Daryl was reminded of old times when they would wake in each other's arms.

"Good morning," Aaron said with a yawn and a stretch.

"Morning," Daryl replied. "How'd you sleep?"

Aaron shook his head. "I tossed and turned all night. You?"

"Barely a wink of sleep."

Aaron sat up and moved over to let Daryl sit. Daryl took a seat next to him, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I feel I need to apologize," Daryl started. "I might have been a little harsh with you last night. I shouldn't have gotten so frustrated. You can't help it that you can't remember."

"It's ok, really," Aaron said rubbing his fingers through his hair. "I can imagine how difficult it is to talk to me when I just stare at you with a blank face most of the time."

"It's not easy," Daryl said in a quiet mumble. He felt Aaron's eyes on him, but he couldn't return the look. "I'll make us some breakfast, and then we can get out of here."

"Did you ever find supplies for the construction project?" Aaron asked.

Daryl's head bobbed, his chin touching his chest. There was still that bit to confess to. He didn't have to, though. Aaron beat him to it. "There's no supplies, are there?"

"There's no project either. Truth is, it was all a set up to get you out here and get you away from Eric so I could talk to you alone, try to reboot your memory."

"So Glenn isn't hurt?" Aaron asked.

"No," Daryl answered tersely, but he eventually went on with an apology. "I shouldn't have deceived you like that. You trusted me, and I broke that. I'm sorry." Daryl said with sincerity.

"I kind of figured that out last night after our conversation," Aaron admitted.

Daryl got up from the couch, and started towards the kitchen, but he stopped and turned back to Aaron. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this place. It's kind of our secret, and when one of us needs a safe place to escape, we come here. It wouldn't have the same meaning if everyone else knew about it."

Aaron nodded, furrowing his brows. "Yeah, sure, not a word."

"Thanks," Daryl said and he went to the kitchen to find something for their meal. He opened one of the cabinets full of canned goods and just stood there, not seeing cans, not thinking of food. He was feeling like he lost the most important battle of his life. Aaron still didn't know him or remember what they had. Maybe he was a little more skeptical of Eric, but he wouldn't bet on it. Eric was a manipulating little twat, and he would attend to any damage control once they got back to town. He would have Aaron believing that Daryl was no good, and he would have him convinced that they needed to go look for this ghost town.

Aaron came into the kitchen, and Daryl grabbed a couple cans from the shelf. "Got some soup. Is that ok?" he said, moving quickly so Aaron wouldn't catch him in looking dejected.

"Yeah, anything's fine." Aaron went to the island and had a seat on one of the barstools.

Daryl opened them and poured them into two bowls. "I can heat it up, but I have to start a fire and–"

"No, that's ok. This is good. Just need something in my stomach is all."

They ate in silence, the taste of chicken noodle somewhat of a relief for both men. Daryl had something he needed to say. If he couldn't get Aaron to remember him, at least he could try to dissuade him from following through with Eric's plan to leave Alexandria. "You shouldn't go," he said simply.

"Go?" Aaron said, swallowing a spoonful of cold soup.

"You shouldn't leave Alexandria."

"I don't think I can stay, though. I don't need anyone to tell me things are tense right now. I've got the lump on my head to prove that. There's dangerous people there, Alexandrians and some of yours. I feel like I got caught in the middle of it. I won't risk it again, especially not for Eric's sake."

"It's more dangerous outside the walls. Someone's bringing trouble. We've seen the signs. You've seen them too, but you don't remember. Walkers with a W carved in their heads. People killed and cut into pieces … we've seen it. Caleb and I just saw it a few days ago, a W carved into some trees, and they weren't that far from Alexandria. It's just a matter of time before they are at our gates," Daryl warned.

"Maybe that's all the more reason to get out while we still can," Aaron told him.

"Don't you hear what I'm saying? It's too risky. You can't leave," Daryl said desperately.

"What choice do I have? If I stay or leave, there will always be risk involved," Aaron argued.

"I'll protect you," Daryl blurted out.

"What?"

"If you stay, I will make it my job to protect you … and Eric. I'll make sure no one hurts you, either of you."

Aaron put down his spoon and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He slowly raised his eyes to look at Daryl. "You don't even like Eric, and he surely doesn't like you. And after whatever happened between us … it seems awkward to have you become our bodyguard. Why would you want to?"

Daryl hesitated, but the words were right there on his tongue. If there was ever a time for him to speak his mind and his heart it was right now. If Aaron left, he would surely die, and Daryl couldn't live with that, knowing there might have been a chance to stop him. "Why?" he repeated Aaron's question, and turned to face him. "Because I love you, that's why. That's the only reason, and that's the truth. So if you choose to believe anything I've told you, then that is the one thing I hope you will take into consideration." Daryl looked down and away. "I should have told you long before now, but I couldn't. I was stupid, I was scared, I was being a stubborn prick, like always."

Aaron sat still, just watching Daryl look defeated by his own admittance. "You … love me?" he stammered with shock.

Daryl kept his eyes to the ground, but he nodded. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "It's too late. It doesn't mean anything to you now. Forget I said it." Daryl shook his head like he was trying to take back the moment. "Listen, just give it a lot of serious thought about staying in Alexandria. The threat is very real, and you'll be in danger if you leave. Please … don't go." Daryl stood and made to leave the kitchen. "I'm gonna pack. We'll leave in thirty." With that said, he was gone.

They were three simple words, but they were the most powerful words Aaron had ever heard. They hammered against his head like the clapper of a bell. He shut his eyes tight, felt a whirlwind of confusion in his mind, and grasped the edge of the island counter. He could hear Daryl's voice repeating those three important words, but he sounded distraught and desperate. Why? Aaron wondered. Daryl told him he'd never said it before now, but Aaron clearly heard him. Other sounds bled in, the sounds of panic and yelling. "Go get Maggie," someone shouted. "He's not breathing," said another. A murmur of a crowd of onlookers surrounded him. And all the while, he could hear Daryl saying over and over, I love you.

Aaron's head started to hurt, and he covered that part with his hand. Suddenly, visions behind his closed eyes showed a bat coming down at his head, and he heard the loud thump and crack of bone. He was remembering, Aaron figured out. He was remembering what happened to him, what happened that night at the fire pit. He heard the shouting of men and the crying of women, the gasp of the crowd, Daryl's agitated voice threatening someone, and then the shot of a gun. He felt someone cradling him … Daryl. He heard Daryl's anxious heart beating, felt warm tears fall onto his face, and the sound of Daryl's voice again repeating his confession as though it was the only thing keeping Aaron alive. And now he realized that was exactly what it was. Aaron forced himself to hang on for Daryl and for the sake of their love. And yes, Aaron loved him. He had loved him for a while now. He'd told him on many occasions, always going unanswered, but never without some kind of physical acknowledgement. A look, a touch, a rare smile, Daryl found a way to say it without using words. Not until Aaron was in danger did Daryl actually say he loved Aaron, and at that moment it was the best and the worst moment of his life.

"I remember," Aaron whispered to himself. "I remember it all. Oh God, I remember."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24 Feels Like Home**

Daryl was in the master bedroom just starting to pack the few things he brought with him. He still needed to get dressed, and then they could finally be on their way back to Alexandria, back to being the stranger. The jig was up. Aaron was on to him. He knew this was all a set up. He'd probably never trust Daryl again. Daryl lied about Glenn hurting his foot just to get Aaron to go away with him. He brought Aaron to the cabin in hopes of loosening some of the memories they shared there. At first, he thought it was working. Aaron was having small flashes, like photos of the time they had spent alone, discovering things about each other. It didn't work completely, though. Aaron was still convinced that he and Eric were the real couple and Daryl had been nothing more than a fling. Now he was out of options. There was nothing more to do. He had confessed to everything, to their relationship, to the lies Eric had been handing to him, and everything in between. It still wasn't enough. Daryl had done all he could. It was a lost cause. It was over.

There was a soft knock at the door. Daryl opened it and immediately turned back to what he was doing without acknowledging Aaron. "I'm almost ready. I just gotta–"

"You told me you never said it before," Aaron said.

"Listen, if you've come here to scold me or make me feel like shit, you don't have to because I already–"

"You said you never told me, but you did," Aaron went on, ignoring him.

Daryl abandoned his pack and turned to Aaron. "What the fuck are you talking–" But as he spoke, Aaron rushed to him and threw his arms around Daryl, hanging on for dear life.

"I remember Daryl. I remember that night by the fire pit, and the hit, and the yelling, and guns, and … and your arms cradling me … and … and … you said it. You said you loved me," Aaron said into Daryl's neck.

Daryl pulled Aaron off of him. He needed to see Aaron's face. He needed to see his eyes and the recognition. Something had changed. Aaron hadn't looked at Daryl like that since before the attack, and he'd definitely never looked at him like that since the amnesia. "Aaron?" he whispered with disbelief.

"I remember, Daryl," Aaron smiled. "I remember it all, but most of all, I remember how much I love you."

"But … how could you have heard me?" Daryl said, referring to that horrible night. "You were unconscious. You stopped breathing at one point. I thought you died in my arms."

"I heard you. Through all of it and everything that happened, it was you who kept me alive. I held on to your words, and fought with every fiber of my being not to let death take me, and I think I was close."

Daryl studied Aaron's face, and with a loss of words, he pulled him into him and held him. "Oh God, Aaron, I've missed you. I thought I lost you for good. You don't know how hard it's been to see you and have you look at me like a stranger. But are you sure? You remember me now? Because I don't think I can go through this again, you know, if this is just temporary or something."

"I'm sure, and I'm not letting go of my memories again. I'm not letting go of you either. I love you, Daryl. Christ, I love you so much." Aaron cupped Daryl's face and leaned towards him. Their lips met, and they kissed slow and careful. Nothing was missing in that kiss. It was as familiar as the first time, and it was done with pure joy and longing.

They decided not to leave. Aaron needed some time to let everything sink in. He didn't remember everything right away. It was more like it seeped in slowly, every drop connecting to another. As they reminisced, they familiarized themselves with each other and with situations. The important thing was that Aaron finally knew Daryl, and knew what they meant to each other. If he never remembered another thing, Daryl would be fine with it. Aaron was back with him, and that was the only thing that mattered.

They took a break from reminiscing, and while Aaron stayed on the couch, Daryl went to the wine cellar and brought a couple bottles up. He uncorked one of them in the kitchen, and came out with two glasses. Aaron watched him come to the couch, smiling at his handsome lover. He suddenly couldn't get enough of seeing Daryl looking so happy and pleased. He had looked desolate and angry for so long.

Daryl laughed as he furrowed his brows when he saw Aaron watching him. "What?" he demanded.

"Have you always looked this handsome?" Aaron asked, trying to make him blush.

Daryl huffed. "You're crazy."

"And you still can't take a compliment," Aaron told him as Daryl handed him a glass and poured the wine. "I thought real men didn't need glasses."

"Normally, no, but this is a special occasion, and we'll celebrate it properly," Daryl said with a refined voice, making Aaron laugh. He sat next to Aaron. They clinked glasses together in a silent toast and drank deep.

Aaron watched Daryl over the edge of his glass, eyes smoldering. "I've got a better idea for a proper celebration." He took Daryl's glass and his and set them on the coffee table. When he returned to Daryl, Aaron kissed the side of his neck, and then along his jaw line. "You haven't shaved in a while," Aaron whispered.

"Neither have you," Daryl noticed, his fingers touching the stubble on Aaron's cheek.

"I was thinking about letting it grow out some. What do you think?" Aaron asked seductively.

Daryl shrugged. "I kind of like it. Makes you look a bit rougher instead of baby face."

"Baby face?" Aaron questioned, his lips now moving on to Daryl's ear. "You like me smooth?"

"I like you hard," Daryl growled.

"You're in luck, Mr. Dixon," Aaron said wantonly.

Daryl moved so that he was leaning over Aaron, and pushed him down onto the couch. "Let me be the judge of that." Daryl undid the single button and reached inside the opening of Aaron's pajama pants. "You weren't kidding, were you?" Daryl teased, stroking Aaron's length.

"Daryl," Aaron breathed heavily. "Better make this quick. I'm not going to last." Aaron's back arched off the couch and his hips bucked upward to shove himself into Daryl's hand.

"I know just the thing," Daryl said, licking his lips. He slipped Aaron's pajama pants off quickly, and slid his lips around Aaron's cock.

Aaron's fingers went straight to Daryl's hair, twisting within the long dark strands. Daryl was relentless in his ministrations, and it didn't take long to have Aaron crying out with satisfaction. While Aaron's flesh was still sensitive, Daryl pushed Aaron's t-shirt up, exposing his chest, and kissed his way up Aaron's stomach, making him jump and squirm. Aaron chortled and tried to push him away, but Daryl insisted on tasting every inch of flesh up to Aaron's mouth. They kissed feverishly, the taste of Aaron still prominent on their twining tongues. Daryl pushed himself up by his hands and stared down into Aaron's face.

"I've missed this. I've missed us," he confessed, looking deep into Aaron's eyes. "It feels like home again."

"It's going to be alright now," Aaron assured him. He took the hem of Daryl's shirt, and pushed it up, helping him out it. Daryl paused from kissing Aaron, and let him pulled the shirt off over his head.

They kissed again, this time slower and more lovingly. Daryl did the same for Aaron by pulling his shirt off so they could be flesh to flesh. Aaron's hands dipped into the waistband of Daryl's sweatpants. His fingers kneaded the taught flesh, driving Daryl mad with desire. "Take these off," Aaron said, pushing the pants down as far as he could. Daryl finished and kicked them off onto the floor. Now they were both naked, and delighting in the feel of their hard cocks rubbing together.

"Turn over," Daryl demanded, and Aaron didn't hesitate to obey. Daryl nudged Aaron's legs apart and slid slowly into his body. The instant enveloping heat and tightness had Daryl pulsating with pleasure, and he knew that, like Aaron, he wouldn't last long. Once Aaron had adjusted, Daryl set his rhythm, hips gyrating, ass clenching with every pump. Aaron was moaning luxuriously, exciting Daryl to know he was responsible. There was just one thing Daryl wished to do, something he'd never been able to do before. He went deep, pumping in short, hard bursts until he felt his climax build. Aaron cried out, once again taking his pleasure. Daryl wasn't far himself, and when he pushed and stilled, buried well inside Aaron, he came like a volcano erupting. He bent down as his orgasm traveled through his body and confessed in a whisper behind his lover's ear. "I love you, Aaron." Finally, he collapsed onto Aaron's back, and the two men were spent, breathing heavily, enraptured by their long-awaited coupling. This was better than their first time, Daryl thought to himself.

Daryl reluctantly slipped from Aaron's body, and Aaron moved so he could lay next to him. They kissed and held each other, neither man ready to abandon the other for so much as a sip of wine to quench their thirst. Aaron turned to look up into Daryl's sultry blue eyes. Daryl gazed back at him, but it didn't take him long to feel uncomfortable by Aaron's soul-searching eyes.

"What is it?" Daryl asked, turning his eyes away.

"I'm perplexed," Aaron responded.

"By what?" Daryl inquired again.

"How could I have ever forgotten any of this?" Aaron wondered.

"You didn't forget. You just misplaced the memory for a while."

"That's a good way of putting it, I guess, but there's still some things missing."

"It will come back to you eventually, I hope."

Aaron smiled and pulled Daryl down for a soft kiss. "I remember what's most important to me. That's all that really matters."

"Let's test your memory," Daryl said. "How much of our last days together do you remember, before we returned to Alexandria?"

Aaron thought a moment before he answered. "Well, I remember the cannery and the walkers. I don't remember how I got to the car, but I remember sitting in it, and your cigarettes, and kissing. After that it's kind of a blank up until the time we entered the park and saw the meeting."

"What about before that?" Daryl wondered. "You said you remember it raining."

"Yeah, and you said we found an abandoned camper and got out of the weather, but I can't recall it."

"You don't remember rockin' that camper all night long?"

"We did?" Aaron said with an amused smile. "God, we must hump like rabbits."

"What about the time you went down on me in the pantry?" Daryl asked.

"What?" Aaron said with shock.

"Or the time we went to one of Deanna's social events, and we locked ourselves in the bathroom where I took you up against the wall." Daryl told him.

"No, I don't … The bathroom? Deanna's house? Were we insane? We could have been caught."

"You know what I think," Daryl growled into Aaron's ear. "I think we're going to have to recreate some of these events."

Aaron smiled, gazing into Daryl's eyes. "You are a beast, aren't you?"

"I'm just trying to be therapeutic. I think if we work really hard at it, we can get all of your memories back, and if not, then we're creating new ones."

"I'll tell you what I do remember," Aaron said. "You were supposed to move in with me. You finally agreed to that." His eyes widened at the memory. "Hey, that's when we got back to Alexandria with Morgan. I guess I remember more than I first thought."

"You know, while you were recovering, I went through with our plans," Daryl said softly.

"You moved in?" Aaron asked.

Daryl nodded. "I told you I would, and I meant it. I thought you'd wake up from that coma and come home, and we'd be together just like I promised."

A bit of dolefulness moved between them. "And then I woke up and didn't even know who you were." Aaron cupped his face. "I'm sorry, Daryl. I can't imagine how difficult that was."

"Lucky for me, I hadn't unpacked. I just took my bags back home." Daryl sat up and so did Aaron.

"You'll move in with me now, won't you?" Aaron asked enthusiastically.

"I would except for one small problem," Daryl reminded him. "Someone already lives there with you."

Aaron closed his eyes, bowed his head and shook it side to side. "Shit. Eric." He palmed the back of his head as though it pained him. "What am I going to tell him? How am I going to break this to him?"

"I'll do it. I don't have any problem with that," Daryl said.

"I'm sure you don't. I can't just tell him to pack up and go."

"Of course you can. Do you forget the lies he's told you, the deceit? Eric deserves to be tossed out on his scrawny ass," Daryl said with anger. There was no love lost between those two.

"Come on. That's not fair, and you know it."

"What's not fair is the fact that he took advantage of you when you were vulnerable. He made me out to look like the enemy, and filled your head with bullshit," Daryl said in a raised tone.

"He did it for love, though. He was a desperate man and he made a desperate move. Listen, I know you don't like him–"

"That's putting it mildly," Daryl interrupted.

"But this is going to send him over the edge," Aaron continued, ignoring Daryl's comment.

"Yeah, over the edge of the wall. Well, I say good riddens," Daryl said with absolutely no sympathy.

"I can't have that on my conscience, so I need to break this to him gently. You understand that, don't you?" Aaron needed to know Daryl was ok with that.

"There you go again … always protecting the little twat." Daryl shook his head and turned away. "I just don't understand how you can stand up for him after all he–" Daryl cut his words off as a new thought developed in his head. He slowly lifted his eyes to Aaron, who was already watching Daryl as the realization made its way to the surface. "Did you … and … and him . . ." His words trailed off, but Aaron understood the question.

Aaron closed his eyes, tightened his lips into a thin line and slowly started to nod his head. "Only once, though." Aaron waited for Daryl to start yelling or to storm off and lock himself in his room. Instead, Daryl stayed where he was. He didn't move, didn't speak. Aaron was afraid to look at him, to see the hatred or disappointment on his face, especially so soon after their reunion. He kept his eyes closed and his head hung. "You're upset, and I don't blame you, but–"

"I'm not exactly happy about it, but I'm not mad," Daryl interrupted.

Aaron opened his eyes and dared to glance at Daryl. "You're not?"

"I've had a lot of lonely nights to conjure up images of what might have been going on between you two. I wondered if he seduced you every night just to make sure you wouldn't remember me or us, or what we had. I'm actually kind of glad to hear you kept your distance. It's a lot better than what I imagined was going on. So, no I'm not mad. It wasn't you fault to begin with." Daryl spoke very understandingly, something Aaron wasn't used to.

"If it's any consolation, I always felt like there was something missing, even that one time."

"Let's never talk about it again, and consider it days gone by. Alright?"

Aaron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, alright."

"So, when we get back, tell Eric in your own way. I'll stay out of it unless he wants to confront me. Then, all bets are off," Daryl warned.

"Deal," Aaron replied. He leaned towards Daryl and kissed him. "How did I get so lucky to find someone like you?"

"Must be that great Alexandrian luck you all have," Daryl jested. "Now, I suggest we move into the bedroom and get even luckier."

* * *

Daryl and Aaron didn't leave the cabin until the following morning. They spent the entire previous day in and out of bed, talking, making love, breaking for the occasional snack, and then repeating. Daryl said they deserved a respite after everything that happened. And when they got back to town, after Aaron had a chance to speak with Eric, Daryl was prepared to move in. He was elated to finally have Aaron back. Not even Wolves, walkers or civil war could damper his mood. He and Aaron were finally going to live as freely as they'd always wished for, and though it might take some getting used to, nothing was going to stop him.

The car rolled up to the gate, and Daryl stopped before they entered. He glanced at Aaron sitting next to him. "You ready to do this?"

"So ready," Aaron said, sounding relieved and glad to finally be getting his life back to the way it used to be.

Daryl stuck his head out of the window and whistled through his fingers. The gate slowly slid open and Daryl drove in. They parked off to the side and exited the car. The guy on gate duty closed it and walked over to Daryl. "Hey man, glad you're back. Everything alright?"

"Fine," Daryl replied, sounding happier than he usually did.

"You're back just in time. Rick's calling a meeting," the guy said.

"Oh yeah? What for?" Daryl asked.

"Not sure. Him and a couple other guys were out. Said they came across something that needs to be dealt with, whatever that means."

"Great. Thanks," Daryl said. He glanced at Aaron with a concerned look, as the two walked back to the trunk. "I wonder what that's all about."

Aaron opened the lid and grabbed his things. "Sounds serious. You think it has to do with Alison?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and flung his bow over his back. "I don't know." Before they left the car, Daryl put his hand on Aaron's shoulder to stop him. Aaron wondered what he was doing when Daryl suddenly leaned forward and kissed him. Aaron was a bit thrown off. Daryl had always made a point not to show affection in public.

"I definitely don't have all of my memory back," Aaron commented when Daryl released him. "I can't recall you ever kissing me out in the open before."

"That's because I haven't. There's no reason to hide anymore, is there?" Daryl said with his sultry voice and bedroom eyes trained on Aaron.

"I guess not." Aaron smiled. "I like this new Daryl." His hand went to the back of Daryl's neck and pulled him in for another kiss. When they separated, they both caught movement in the distance and looked to see who it was. Up the street was Eric, coming to see who was at the gate. No doubt, he'd be worried and looking for Aaron by now. He stopped dead when he saw Daryl and Aaron kissing. He just stood there, staring, not moving, eyes narrowed on the couple.

"Shit," Aaron muttered. "This wasn't how it was supposed to play out."

"He was gonna find out sooner or later," Daryl said, not sounding sympathetic in the least. "You coming with me to Rick's?"

"No, I better deal with this first," Aaron said, watching Eric from afar. Both men started walking towards Eric, who was standing on the main street that led to the occupied houses. When they got a little closer, Daryl stopped Aaron.

"Here, let me have your bag. I'll drop it off at your house," Daryl suggested.

"Our house," Aaron reminded him as he handed Daryl the bag. Then he smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem." Daryl took Aaron's chin in his fingers and planted a solid kiss on Aaron's lips to make sure Eric saw it. "I'll see you in a little bit." They continued walking until they had to pass Eric. Now that they were closer, they could see the absolute rage in Eric's eyes. He didn't say a word, only stood there glaring at both men. Aaron stopped, but Daryl kept walking. As he went past Eric, he seemed to grow three sizes with pride and his usual arrogance. "Sup, Eric?" he said, bumping shoulders in a threatening way. He seemed to growl when he said Eric's name.

Eric stood his ground, and didn't let Daryl's threat go unnoticed as he spoke to Aaron. "I thought trash was left outside the walls."

Daryl stopped dead, his head tilting up to the sky as he turned back towards Eric. "What did you say?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you don't understand anything if it's not in redneck."

Daryl let Aaron's bag drop to the ground and charged at Eric. "Why you little fu–"

Aaron rushed between them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's just take it down a notch. Daryl, you should hurry up for Rick's meeting. Eric, you should just stop." Aaron had a hand on each man's chest to keep them apart, but they were determined to have a confrontation.

"Where the hell did you take him?" Eric demanded to know. "What did you do to him?"

"I did what you wouldn't do. I told him the truth, you prick," Daryl answered heatedly.

"You both need to calm down," Aaron tried to mediate.

"He tricked you, didn't he," Eric accused. "Stole you away from Alexandria so he could have you to himself. Don't try to cover for him. I know the whole thing with Glenn and his injured foot was a hoax. I caught him the next day walking around like nothing happened."

"Eric," Aaron tried to interrupt.

"And I bet his watchdog, Carol was in on it too. How convenient that she was at the infirmary when Glenn arrived, and whisked me away before I could ask questions," he ranted.

"Eric," Aaron said again, but Daryl pushed forward until he was leaning on Aaron's shoulder, trying to get as close to Eric as possible.

Eric took a small step backwards by instinct, but he couldn't control his mouth at that point. "You were gone for two days, and no one could tell me anything about where he'd had taken you." Eric's eyes narrowed on Daryl. "I bet you told him all kinds of things to turn him against me. I never did trust you. I always knew you were a piece of white trash shit."

"Eric!" Aaron shouted to make him stop and realize what he was saying.

Daryl couldn't get to Eric because of Aaron, and it was pissing him off. But he'd been in enough fights to know when it was time for an ass kicking and when it was better to wait. He backed off and took a few deep breaths, as though calming himself. Aaron still held his hand up, just in case Daryl lunged again. Daryl seemed to calm. He put his hands up in front of him as a gesture of submission. "Alright … alright, I ain't gonna do this here. Besides," he said tilting his head pugnaciously. "You ain't worth it." Daryl spit on the ground at Eric's feet. "I got a meeting to get to anyways." He turned to leave and only took a couple steps when he heard Eric's haughty reply.

"That's right, run off to Rick like you're his bitch," Eric muttered loud enough for Daryl to hear.

Daryl moved faster than anyone had time to realize. He pushed past Aaron and was in Eric's face like a flash. "I ain't no one's bitch," he said and punched Eric in the stomach. Eric doubled over and fell to the ground. Aaron stood by, still in shock, and palmed his head. Eric was struggling to breathe, having the wind knocked out of him. Daryl hovered above him, shifting back and forth on his feet. "Idiot," Daryl huffed. "I'll give him one thing, though. He's got bigger balls than I would have thought, taking me on like that."

"You didn't have to punch him," Aaron complained lightly, trying not to sound like he was sticking up for Eric too much. The guy had it coming to him.

"I was going to punch him in the face, but I spared his pretty boy complexion. It was the least I could do. He's still an asshole, though." Daryl's arm swooped down to pick up the bag. He left the scene, and left Aaron to deal with Eric while he went off to Rick's house to see what was going on.

Aaron stood over Eric a moment and shook his head. Eric looked up at him, pain and defeat on his face. "He seems angry," Eric jostled.

"I warned you to stop," Aaron said, bending down and helping Eric to his feet. "We have to talk, and I don't want to do it here in the middle of the street."

Eric studied Aaron's face, and he could see something was different. "Oh no, he did, didn't he. He turned you against me. Honey, listen, whatever he told you–"

"I got my memory back," Aaron blurted out before Eric went on. "Well, some of it. Maybe about sixty percent of it."

"Oh," Eric said after a brief silence, still clutching his stomach. "And … which … sixty percent … is that?"

"The sixty percent that remembers I love Daryl."

"Oh," Eric said softly, knowing he was defeated.

"I don't want to do this here. Please, let's go somewhere and talk," Aaron pleaded.

Eric ignored Aaron. "H-He's brainwashed you or something. T-There's a perfectly good explanation for–"

"I remember, Eric. I remember a lot of things. And I remember that you and I aren't together anymore." If Eric wanted to do this here in the street then Aaron wouldn't hold back anything.

"But Daryl tricked you to get you away from here. He lied to you," Eric protested.

"And you didn't?" Aaron replied. "You made me believe that we were still a couple, and that I cheated on you with Daryl," he said with absolute anger. "You made me think I was a piece of shit who strayed from our relationship." Aaron stopped and stared at Eric, waiting for his reaction.

Eric's chest heaved with quick breaths as he tried to figure a way out of the situation. There was nothing he could do. He'd been exposed. "Alright, fine. I did it. I did all of it, but I did it for you … for us," he said after a long silence. "I never would have done any of it if you hadn't called out to me when you awoke from your coma. It had been a long time since you asked for me, since you depended on me." Eric turned his eyes to the ground, feeling shamed for having been caught. "At first, I just wanted to be there for you and help you. And then I realized you didn't know who Daryl was. You seemed to push him away while you clung to me for stability. I couldn't ignore that fact. It was as though it was a second chance for me and for us. I thought that if I could keep Daryl away from you, we could get our lives back … together. I've missed you, Aaron. All I've ever wanted was for you and I to be together again, and for a little while we were. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

Aaron's anger turned to sympathy. In a way, he understood how Eric felt. Aaron had a similar experience when he remembered his life with Daryl. He wouldn't be able to stand it if Daryl ever turned away from him. The difference was Daryl loved Aaron back. Aaron couldn't say the same towards Eric. As much as Eric said and showed it, Aaron's heart just never completely opened to him, and that kind of realization must have been devastating. Still . . .

"But you did hurt someone. You hurt Daryl … and you hurt me by keeping me from him. I may not have known it at the time, but I know it now. It was wrong, Eric, and you destroyed any kind of trust I had in you."

Daryl might have punched Eric in the gut, but Aaron's words were a much harder blow. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I'm so so sorry," Eric said pleadingly. "I didn't know what I was … I just thought that if … Aw, dammit, Aaron. Can you forgive me?" He seemed on the verge of tears, but Aaron wasn't going to give in. He wouldn't berate him anymore, but he wasn't quite ready to forgive Eric so soon after everything that happened. It was going to take some time.

"I'm going to need you to gather your things from the house," Aaron said with little emotion. It felt like the only way to get through to Eric was with tough love.

Eric's desolate mood changed to anger faster than seemed normal. "What? Are you letting him move in now? Already? Do you think that's wise?"

"Daryl was preparing to move in with me before the attack. You were just prolonging the inevitable," Aaron answered dryly.

"So this is it then?" Eric said with desperation in his voice. "After all we've been through. After all we've meant to each other, it's over?"

"It was over a long time ago," Aaron said, sympathy returning to his voice.

"But you said you loved me. Don't you remember? We made love, and it was so incredible. Then you told me you loved me," Eric pleaded. "I know you. You'd never say something like that unless you meant it. Dammit Aaron, I had you first. When you came to Alexandria, you were defeated. You were all out of answers about yourself and your past. I still remember talking to you when we first met. You opened up to me right away. We were alike, you and I. There was no one else like us, and we understood each other. That was part of the magic. We just clicked and everything else fell into place. And it was so good. That's all I wanted, Aaron, to have you back like that."

"And you lifted me, Eric, you really did. It's true, when I came here I was in a bad place. What I realize is that I wasn't broken. I was just bent, and you helped me straighten out. I'll always be grateful to you for what you did. I needed someone who understood what it was like to feel that there was no one left in the world who was like me. But I took advantage of that too. That was my fault, and I take full responsibility," Aaron explained.

"So are you saying our relationship was a mistake?" Eric questioned.

This was the real question, and however Aaron answered, it wouldn't come out right. He hung his head in defeat. "It was a convenience," Aaron admitted in a whisper.

Eric seethed and nodded his head as he looked around, not able to focus his sight on Aaron at the moment. "I see. Any port in the storm. You were only with me because there wasn't another gay man in town. And then HE came along, and you … what … upgraded?" Eric moved closer to Aaron and spoke close to his ear. "Two years, Aaron. I was devoted to you. I loved you. I would have died for you, and all I was to you was just a convenience fuck? Now who's the liar?"

"That's not true and you know it. I cared about you. For God's sake, I still do. I was prepared to spend whatever time we have left with you," Aaron tried to explain, but it wasn't coming out right.

"You settled. You never really loved me, not the way I love you." Eric backed away and looked towards Aaron's house. "You want me out? I'm out then. Stay with your precious Daryl. I hope he really does care about you, or you're going to find yourself in the same situation I'm in now. And you better hope like hell that another fag doesn't wander into Alexandria or Daryl might drop you for a better model." He stormed off to get his things.

"Eric, wait. Don't be like this," Aaron called out, but Eric ignored him. How did the tables get turned and suddenly Aaron was the cause of the devastation? But then again, Aaron created the false sense of love and security when he chose to be with Eric. It was his own fault. He just wished this went a bit smoother. He was fooling himself to think Eric would accept any of it. Aaron just wished they could remain friends. It was true that he still cared for Eric, but as a friend and nothing more. That, obviously, would never be enough for Eric. And that's why Aaron had gotten tough with him. Well, he thought to himself, give him a few days to stew over it. Keep out of his way, and check back on him in a little while. Maybe by then, Eric will have cooled down enough to speak to him again. In the meantime, Aaron couldn't go home in case Eric was there packing up his belongings. So he decided to go to Rick's house and join the meeting, find out what all the urgency was about.

* * *

By the time Aaron got to Rick's place, the meeting had been going for a while. It had been going on before Daryl even got there too. Aaron came in while Carter, one of the Alexandrian residents, was arguing with Rick about something. There was a map of the area spread out on a table. Daryl was there, looking at it, his brows drawn together as though in deep consideration. He looked up and interrupted Carter.

"It's the only way. Rick's right. We can't just leave them there, plug up the dam and hope it holds," Daryl said. He saw Aaron come into the room and went to him. His hand grasped Aaron's shoulder and squeezed. "Hey, how'd it go?"

"I told him to move out. He's not happy about it, of course. I-I couldn't go home so I thought I'd come here instead." Aaron looked past Daryl to the map. "What's going on?"

"Rick was out, heard something, and found a quarry full of walkers. Thousands of them. They've been falling in, filling the pit. Looks like someone moved some semi-trucks to block them in, but the ground around the quarry has been slowly eroding away. Eventually, it will cave in and the walkers will get out, and with the hills and the terrain, they'll all funnel right towards town. It's the biggest herd we've ever come across, and if they come this way, not even these steel walls will keep them out. Now we know why Alexandria hasn't seen many walkers. They've been getting trapped," Daryl explained.

"What's Rick propose we do about them?" Aaron asked.

One of the attending residents answered when she overheard Aaron ask. "He wants to let them out like a herd of cattle, and lead them away from here." She didn't sound convinced by the plan.

Carter was still arguing with Rick. "We've got plenty of materials left at that construction site. I say we reinforce what someone has already put in place. We can make it so they never get out."

"The problem is the noise they make. It's drawing more walkers in all the time. And as I said, the ground is about to cave in. These trucks are parked right at the edge. If just one falls in, walkers are getting out," Rick countered.

The woman who spoke to Aaron was now contributing to the conversation. "I say we just torch them all, find a bunch of propane tanks, open them up, and throw them in the pit. We could use flares to ignite it."

Michonne stepped forward to address the woman. "You can light them up, but they won't die. Then you'll have a few thousand flaming walkers trying to get out. And what if some escape? At this time of year with the dry air, and the ground covered with dry dead leaves, they'd wander into the forest and set it on fire. Eventually it would spread to Alexandria, and destroy all we have. That's a chance we can't take."

Another man spoke up with his opinion. "Couldn't we let a few at a time trickle out and kill them? Eventually we'd get the herd down to a manageable size."

"We don't have enough ammo or man power to take on a herd this size," Rick answered. "I appreciate everyone's input, but I don't see any other way around this. So here's what I think we should do."

Rick went on to explain his plan. They would line up cars along the road to keep the herd from wandering. Where they needed to turn them in a different direction, they would use steel from the construction site to make bumpers, forcing them to head a specific way. They could use flares to focus their attention on a certain direction. Everything would be mapped out and put in place in order for this plan to go off easily.

Aaron listened to the entire plan before he asked his question. "So, who will be the pied piper?" Everyone in the room turned to see what he was talking about. "Well, someone has to be out in front of the herd leading them. Who's going to do that?"

It was silent for a moment, and then Daryl spoke up. "I am," he said.

Aaron spun around and eyed him questioningly. "You?"

"I'm going to rig my bike, make sure it's extra loud. As long as I keep my distance in front of them it should be alright. They'll be attracted to the motor and follow. It will be slow going, but it's the only way."

Aaron shook his head. "No. It's too dangerous. Just you in front of a few thousand roamers? What if something happens? What if your bike breaks down? No, I don't like it. I think it's much too risky."

"This whole plan is too risky," Carter said.

"Well, it's a risk I'm willing to take to make sure Alexandria remains safe," Rick said angrily.

"What if we did a dry run first," said the woman from earlier. "You know, a practice run, so we at least know the route, and know what to do." She looked at Carter for an answer.

Carter looked around the room, and eventually nodded. "Alright, I'd feel better about this if we just went through the motions first."

Rick was getting impatient. Daryl could see it in his eyes. "We still have to get everything ready, and that's going to take a few days. We ain't got time to practice. We need to get it done, and do it now."

Daryl, sometimes the voice of reason, put a friendly hand on Rick's shoulder. "It's actually not such a bad idea," he whispered. "Remember who they are." He was right. These were people that didn't know what it was like to deal with walkers, let alone a herd of thousands of them."

Rick considered Daryl's comments for a moment. He looked at Carter, who, Daryl thought, seemed frightened by all of this talk. Finally, Rick nodded in agreement. "Alright. We'll go through the motions one time, and one time only. Then, we're on the clocks. In the meantime, we got a lot of prep work to do." They spent the rest of the day pouring over the map, marking off certain areas of concern and making lists of materials they would need. Tomorrow, they would begin.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 A Moment Captured in Time**

Rick's meeting about the walkers in the quarry ended. Everyone had a good idea of what needed to be done. There was just one thing left to decide. Who was going to be on this team of herders? "I need people who know the terrain pretty well. I need people who can handle weapons. And I need people who know how to act fast."

A man named Heath was the first to volunteer, as well as his group of runners. "We've been out there lots of times. It's our job to scour the surrounding areas, look for food and supplies, stuff like that. We're fast. We know how to get in and get out."

"Alright," Rick agreed. "Who else is in on this?"

Carter stepped forward. "I've done runs before and so have they." He pointed to a couple people standing next to him.

"I'll go," Aaron spoke up. If anyone knew the terrain around Alexandria it was him.

A few more people spoke up, including Morgan. Although he didn't know the area as well as most of the others, he was smart, quick, and good with a weapon. Rick agreed to everyone who volunteered, but when the meeting broke up and people started to leave, he went to Daryl and Aaron. "Daryl tells me you got your memory back," Rick said.

"Yeah, most of it anyways," Aaron replied.

"That's good, and I'm really glad to hear it, but . . ." Rick palmed the back of his neck. "I'd rather you stayed here."

"Why?" Aaron asked with disappointment.

"Right now, I've got all my best people making this run. Carol is the only experienced one staying in town. I need someone else here, in case things go south and the herd breaks away. If that should happen, I need you and Carol to help the others. You're either handing out weapons or helping everyone get out of town. I need a couple leaders who can get these people organized just in case," Rick explained.

"But I know the land better than anyone. Daryl and I have–"

Rick interrupted him. "I want you here with Carol. I trust the both of you to be able to handle anything that comes your way." Rick shifted on his feet. Daryl knew that move. He only did it when he was about to confess something. "Look," Rick continued. "I have to be out there. I have to leave my children here. I don't like it, but I've got no other choice. For peace of mind, I need people I trust to protect them, and to get them out of here if need be." Rick grasped Aaron's shoulder. "I know you'll do the right thing, Aaron. You're probably the most honest man of any of us. That's why I need you here." Rick gave Aaron's shoulder a hard slap before he walked away.

Aaron was caught off guard by Rick's comments. "Wow, I had no idea. Rick's always been kind of tough on me. I didn't think he ever really trusted me, not the way he trusts his own people."

"It might take him longer to see a person's good traits than it takes you or me, but he knows who he can trust," Daryl said, and he leaned in to kiss Aaron. "You're one of us now, officially … you know … like being Rick approved," he joked.

Carol came over to them, smiling at the two men. Daryl gave her a narrow-eyed glare. "What?"

"I'm not used to seeing this … the two of you … in public … you know." She nudged Daryl's shoulder with her own, and he rolled his eyes. She laughed. "I know, I know. I can already hear you saying don't make a big deal out of it. Well, I wasn't going to. Just noticing, that's all," Carol said.

"Looks like you and I are on patrol duty," Aaron told her. "Rick wants me here with you and the others that are staying in town while the rest move the herd."

"Good," she smiled. "We'll just make sure it's life as usual around here. Don't want everyone worrying. So what are you boys up to today?"

"Today's moving day," Daryl said, looking into Aaron's eyes. Aaron smiled at him before turning to Carol.

"Yeah, I uh, I saw Eric before I came here, and I told him he needs to find another place to live," Aaron said, but there was a hint of something sad in his voice.

"Hey," Carol said. "He did it to himself. Just remember that."

"I know. It's still difficult, though."

"Not for me," Daryl said arrogantly. He hurried to change the subject before Aaron scolded him. "I'm gonna get with Rick, and start helping him organize this shit," Daryl told Aaron. Then he moved so they were standing close and whispered. "When do you want me to come by?"

"How about tonight. I'm sure by then Eric will be out," Aaron suggested.

"Ok, good." Daryl looked around the room, but Carol was the only one left. He watched her with one brow cocked until she got the message.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized with a fiendish smile, and turned around to leave them alone.

When Carol was gone, Daryl gently pushed Aaron backwards until he was against a wall. Daryl put a hand to either side of Aaron, palms flat on the smooth surface, and pushed his body against Aaron's. Daryl captured his lips and they kissed passionately. When they separated, Daryl looked longingly into Aaron's eyes. "I'll bring my bike and all my stuff over tonight, and then I'll be officially moved in."

"God, I've wanted this day for so long," Aaron said, smiling. "Now I have you whenever I want you, to wake up every day next to you, and to fall asleep beside you ever night."

"I think you can count on not getting much sleep tonight, though," Daryl growled before biting his earlobe. They kissed again, but Daryl stopped when he heard someone walking through the house, their footsteps loud and hurried as they approached. It wasn't that Daryl cared so much if someone caught him with Aaron, but he was still a very private person. No one needed to witness this intimate moment.

Carter came around the corner and froze when he saw Daryl and Aaron standing alone in the room, even though they weren't doing anything. He looked like he wanted to turn around and leave, as he averted his eyes. Daryl looked towards Aaron, making an eye roll gesture. Aaron gave a quick shake of his head, telling Daryl not to say anything and make the guy more uncomfortable. By then, Carter regained his composure.

"Hey, Daryl, uh, Rick's looking for you," Carter informed him.

"Yeah, ok. I'm coming." Daryl glanced at Aaron. "I'll see you later." As he walked past Carter, he patted his shoulder. "Thanks man." Then he went off to talk to Rick.

Carter started to leave, but he stopped and turned back towards Aaron nervously. "I, uh, I wanted to, uh … I just wanted to say, I don't agree with any of those things Pete and Gerrard said … you know … about you … or Eric … or Daryl either. You have as much right to be here as any of us. You're a good man, and you're important to the community."

"Thanks, Carter. That means a lot," Aaron answered.

Carter nodded as he looked at his feet. "Well, I better go. Busy day tomorrow."

"See you later," Aaron said as Carter left.

Aaron left Rick's house, and made his way to the infirmary. He thought it might be a good idea to pay a visit to Denise, and let her know the good news about his renewed memory. On his way there, he saw Father Gabriel and Morgan coming from Alison's side of town. Aaron still wasn't sure about Alison or any of the conflict that happened between her and Rick. Daryl had mentioned it, but Aaron didn't remember. Still, he naturally felt uneasy about her. The memory was there somewhere, buried for the time being. She was someone to stay clear of. That much he understood. So when he saw Morgan and Gabriel, red flags went up rather quickly.

Aaron stopped to watch them a moment. The two men paused in the street and spoke a moment before they parted ways. As Morgan looked up, he saw Aaron and waved. Then he approached. Aaron waited for him.

"Aaron, how are you?" Morgan greeted with a smile. "Feeling well today? I heard you were suffering from migraines."

"I was, but not so much anymore." Aaron decided not to tell Morgan about getting his memory back.

"Things coming in any clearer for you?" Morgan asked.

"Some things, yes. It's a slow process." Aaron glanced past Morgan's shoulder towards Alison's side. "What's going on over there today?"

Morgan looked over his shoulder in the direction of Aaron's line of sight. "I was just paying a visit to the other half. I don't know those people as well, though I've heard the stories."

"So you must know that it was one of her people who did this to me," Aaron stated and pointed at his head.

"You remember that?" Morgan inquired as he ignored the change in Aaron.

"I've recently remembered that night. I wouldn't be so quick to make friends over there," Aaron warned.

"It would not be beneficial to treat them as enemies." Morgan narrowed his eyes as he studied Aaron's face. "I'm surprised you would say that, actually. Many of those people are here because of you. You, Aaron, are the one person in Alexandria who I thought understood how important every life is. It's why you recruit, and why you are good at perceiving people. But maybe you're still not thinking as clearly as you once did."

"Sometimes I think I see clearer now than ever before," Aaron answered. "I almost died because of my choice to bring certain people into this community. They might have been good when they came here, but they changed. That's what this world does to people now. It changes them, some for the better, some for the worse. And some people are still exactly the same. But I think what it comes down to is that people are afraid of what they don't understand. They would rather delete the problem rather than take the time to learn. I'm just not as trusting as I once was."

"Don't you think that will interfere with your job as a recruiter?" Morgan asked, as though he was trying to make Aaron see the mistakes in his new way of thinking.

Aaron shook his head confidently. "No, I think it makes me smarter and more aware of the people I bring into this town in the future." Aaron lifted his head and gestured towards Alison's territory. "You might want to be a bit more careful yourself, Morgan."

Morgan's attitude changed from serious to something a little more friendly. "I can understand your reason for caution. I've been where you are, but in a much darker frame of mind. There was a time I didn't trust anyone either, and I did things that I'm not proud of. But the one thing I know is that people can turn back to what they once were. I did, which is why I will always say this. All life is precious, and even the most wicked should be given the opportunity at a second chance. Unfortunately, your friend Daryl extinguished that chance for the man who injured you."

"What do you know of it?" Aaron challenged. "You weren't a member of this community. You never knew the man."

"I learned about him from the others. He had a wife and child … before. He lost them early on in the beginning of everything. He was an electrician, owned his own business, a church going man. He had a normal life before all of this happened. You can't tell me he changed so much that he couldn't find his way back to being that man again."

"He was a bigot, a gay bashing asshole. Something tells me that extended from his life before the outbreak. Daryl was right to do what he did. You talk of all life being precious, but Gerrard never thought that about me or Eric or Daryl. We are something he feared, something he never understood. He would rather eliminate us than try to recognize us as equals. My life matters too, and Daryl made sure of that when he shot Gerrard. So you'll excuse me if I don't see things as you do. Yes, I believe life is precious, but I will not tolerate anyone who tries to bring harm to me or to those I care about."

Morgan nodded and looked at the ground, clearly knowing he wasn't going to change Aaron's mistrusting way of thinking. Aaron stood silent and watched Morgan, but there were no more words to be exchanged. Instead, Morgan looked up, smiled, and patted Aaron's shoulder. Then he walked away. Aaron watched him go with mixed feelings. He couldn't help feel that Morgan's way of thinking might get some people in trouble in the future. Then again, the man did have a point.

* * *

The day wore on and now evening was pushing in. Aaron had gone home a little while ago, and just as he suspected, Eric was totally moved out. His side of the closet was empty. His bags were gone, as well as his jacket and a few other belongings. There was a folded up piece of paper on the kitchen table, and Aaron laid his fingers on it before picking it up. A memory came back to him just then. He'd seen Eric with this before, but he had a difficult time remembering when. Aaron recalled seeing Eric putting a folded paper just like this one into the pocket of his shirt. He had been curious back then, and wondered if it was a note of some kind. Maybe it was something Eric was going to give him before, but he changed his mind or found he couldn't do it. Aaron slid the paper towards him and looked at it a moment before he picked it up. He gave a very deep sigh. This was difficult to do, even though Carol was right when she said Eric brought it on himself. Aaron was still extremely disappointed in Eric. It saddened him to know this man that he trusted and had a relationship with for two years could lie so easily. It troubled him even more to know Eric led him to believe he strayed from that relationship with Daryl. They were all horrible lies that kept Aaron from knowing the truth when he was most vulnerable. Still, the reason Eric did this made Aaron feel sorry for him, and he shared the guilt knowing he was partly responsible. If he hadn't led Eric into believing that what they shared for those two years was solid, this never would have happened. He couldn't expect Eric to just stop loving him and not try to get him back somehow. Eric wasn't being spiteful, not all the time. He made his poor decision to deceive out of love, and it was for this reason that Aaron still felt sympathy for him.

Now, here he stood looking at a piece of paper that would probably be the last time Eric would have a chance to make his feelings known. And in this world, a gay man couldn't exactly be told to move on and meet someone else. There weren't many like them anymore, and sometimes it seemed as if they were the only ones. But three was an odd number, and Daryl won Aaron's heart a long time ago. It was bittersweet. Aaron finally met and fell in love with the man he knew he could spend the rest of his days with, but this meant that Eric would be alone. This was why, even after all the bad things that he did, Aaron still felt it was important to be Eric's friend. They really did share something special at one time. They were friends before they were lovers. They understood each other. Aaron hoped to keep that small part alive between them. Eric would still need someone to lean on from time to time, someone who knew him, who could relate. Daryl wouldn't accept it. Aaron could already hear his voice telling him not to let Eric influence his feelings anymore. Daryl would never trust Eric again, and rightfully so. Aaron wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his relationship with him, but he hoped that one day Daryl would understand why he felt this way about Eric. However, it was too soon, and the hurt was still fresh.

Aaron closed his eyes as he unfolded the paper, and expected to see words on a page. When he opened his eyes, what he found surprised him. It wasn't a letter, but rather a photograph in black and white. He'd forgotten about it until now, and it wasn't just because of the amnesia. The picture was taken way back when they had only just started seeing each other. Aaron focus on the smiling faces as he remembered the events that led up to that moment in time, and what the photo represented.

Back then, Aaron and Eric lived in a small apartment. It was very cramped, but it was good enough since they were making a lot of recruiting runs at the time, and they weren't home very often. It was also away from other residents, and allowed them their privacy. A dream of Eric's had always been to live in a house with a yard and a porch, a place that was comfortable and had that lived in feel. But Aaron and Eric were not the traditional couple, and a house like that in Alexandria was reserved for families. They accepted this, though, and went about their lives.

They were out on a run when Eric found the camera. It was a forgotten artifact in an old burnt out farmhouse. Eric had been admiring an antique chest of drawers, charred from the fire, but still recognizable. He'd said if times were different, he could have refurbished it and gotten a pretty penny for it. Eric always had excellent taste when it came to antiques. Aaron remembered telling him not to fool around with it. They had seen roamers not far from where they stopped to rest, and they had to leave before they became surrounded. Eric only opened one drawer, as Aaron was hurrying him. Inside, he found this old camera and shoved it into his bag. When they got back to town, they were walking down the street, when Eric pulled the camera out. Aaron reminded him that the film was probably bad, but Eric insisted it wasn't. Just then, a friend of theirs walked by. Eric stopped her and asked her to take a picture. They only took one of the two of them, and would take pictures of the town to use up the rest of the film. They needed pictures to show any survivors that they found, hoping to convince them with actual photos of Alexandria.

Their friend told them to sit on the steps of the vacant house they were in front of, so they did. Eric wrapped his arm around Aaron. Aaron draped his arm over Eric's leg and leaned into him. Their friend commented on what a cute couple they made as she took the photo. She handed the camera back to Eric and looked up at the lovely home. She said she thought it was the perfect house for the two men, and encouraged them to speak to Deanna about letting them move in. Eric brushed it off, thinking that a house like that one was too much for them, and that there were other families that probably needed it more than to gay men. His comment struck Aaron in the heart. Why shouldn't they be allowed the same luxuries as other families?

At the time, Aaron wanted nothing more than to see Eric happy. It was his main goal. He knew Eric loved him, but Aaron wasn't quite there yet. He thought he would be one day, maybe after they'd lived together for a while. Their relationship was still new, and they were still learning about each other. In the meantime, Aaron wanted Eric to have anything he dreamed of. It wasn't always possible in the new rough world, but this time he thought it would be. Aaron went to Deanna and asked her about the house. To his surprise, she agreed quickly and gave him the keys. He rushed back to Eric, who had just finished developing the old camera's film. Eric was smiling and showed Aaron the picture. It wasn't perfect, and as Aaron predicted, the old film had flaws, but for the most part, the picture came out alright. It was at that moment that Aaron handed Eric a key. Eric asked him what it was for, and Aaron pointed to the door behind them in the photo. The very next day, they were moving out of their cramped apartment and into the big lovely house full of antiques collected by the previous owner.

The picture used to hang on the wall in the living room, but as they collected more and more license plates, the picture was taken down to make room. Eric kept it on the mantel, Aaron remembered. It became one of those objects that was always there, and he just didn't notice it after a while. It blended in with all the other eclectic pieces. As a matter of fact, Aaron hadn't even noticed when it was gone. Obviously it had been gone for a while because Eric had it now. Had he been carrying it all this time, folded up in his pocket? How did he not notice? Aaron asked himself, but there were probably a lot of things he didn't see, and after Daryl came to town, Aaron basically put blinders on.

Now, here it was, laying on the table, returned to the place where it all started, a reminder of how it used to be. Aaron realized it hadn't been that bad. He was happy. He was content. But he wasn't complete. He was now because of Daryl.

Aaron heard the rattle of Daryl's bike entering the garage, and his heart leapt into gear. This was it. Finally, he and Daryl could have the life they'd only dreamed of not that long ago. He was about to go to the garage door and welcome Daryl home, when he realized he still held the photo. Aaron looked around for a place to stow it. He didn't want Daryl seeing it because he would probably tear it up and throw it away. Aaron wanted to give the picture back to Eric, and try to make some kind of amends with him. He wanted Eric to know he was still there for him, but strictly as a friend and nothing more.

There was a small decorative table nearby with a single drawer. Aaron hurried to open it, but it was stuck. He jiggled it frantically until it finally opened, tossed the picture in and closed it. His hand was still on the metal pull ring when the door to the garage opened. Daryl came in with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He closed the door behind him, and let the bag drop to the floor. Aaron's hand abandoned the drawer as Daryl walked up to him. The picture was forgotten for now. It didn't matter anymore. It represented the past, and there was no room for that here. Daryl surrounded Aaron with his arms and kissed him fervently. Hands roamed and their bodies pressed against each other, as though they were fused together. Neither man said a single word. Actions spoke louder than any words they could come up with, but at the moment, each one knew what the other wanted. Aaron's hands went right to Daryl's belt, his fingers fumbling to get it undone quickly. Daryl's mouth was eager upon his, making it difficult to concentrate. He finally accomplished his task, and his hands dipped inside, taking up Daryl's hardened cock and stroked him. Daryl moaned into Aaron's mouth. His hands, which were grasping at Aaron's shirt, tugged in a downward motion, gesturing as to what he wanted next. Aaron knew exactly what that was, and wasted no time getting onto his knees. He grasped the waistband of Daryl's pants and slid them down just enough to expose the object he so desired. Aaron's tongue dipped and teased, flicking along the satin surface, driving his lover insane with need. Then, he took the magnificent cock into his mouth, swallowing it to the hilt. Daryl's hand instantly went to Aaron's head to hold him in place, but there was no need. Aaron wasn't going anywhere, and he knew exactly what to do to satisfy.

Daryl threw his head back. It felt so good that he almost decided to let Aaron finish him, but he didn't want to come so fast. He wanted to draw it out, make it last until the torture of restraint was too much to handle. Or at least until he could get Aaron on the couch. He looked down and watched himself disappear past Aaron's lips, almost unable to stop him. But there was something he wanted more. Daryl pushed on Aaron's shoulders, and he looked up.

"Get back up here," Daryl whispered. Aaron stood and kissed him, hardly missing a beat. Daryl started unbuttoning Aaron's flannel shirt, and stopped when he became impatient. Instead, he lifted the half undone shirt over Aaron's head and tossed it to the floor. His hands roamed over Aaron's chest, feeling the light muscling under his palms. His hands went lower and unbuckled Aaron's belt. He reached in and returned the favor as Aaron had just done to him, stroking his length.

Aaron's mouth assaulted Daryl's neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Daryl didn't protest as he might have in the past. Instead, he submitted to the feel of his blood being drawn to the surface of his skin. It would be a mark he would wear with pride. Aaron's tongue licked the spot, as though to ease his slight suffering, and then he whispered. "I want you, Daryl. I need you bad."

Daryl walked Aaron backwards towards the living room. As they went, they very clumsily finished undressing each other, leaving a trail of clothes from the garage to the couch. When they finally reached their destination, Aaron playfully pushed Daryl down onto the couch. Then he straddled Daryl's lap. They slowed things down a bit, now that they were where they wanted to be. Aaron kissed Daryl slowly and with more longing and passion, proving that he could control his lustful urgency. Their eyes locked as Aaron moved to position himself. Then he slowly lowered his body onto Daryl, who was now biting his lower lip to contain himself.

Daryl's body wanted nothing more than to plunge and thrust, to make Aaron scream his name, but he was at a disadvantage in this position. Aaron had done this on purpose, no doubt. So many times in the past, Daryl would finish Aaron off quickly the first time, only to slow things down and take their time for the second act.

Aaron made slow circling motions with his hips, adjusting to having Daryl deep inside. Daryl was letting him have his way, and it only provoked Aaron to move at his own pace. It was sweet torture, giving Aaron control over both of their bodies, but Daryl would have it no other way.

"You're so fucking sexy, you know that?" Aaron said in a gravelly voice while he gyrated slowly in Daryl's lap. Then they kissed, and Aaron wrapped his arms around Daryl's neck. Daryl's fingers dug into Aaron's ass, manipulating him to move faster.

"You feel so good," Daryl whispered into Aaron's ear just before taking it into his teeth and biting lightly. "I could stay like this forever." These were the moments Daryl thought he'd never get to experience, before or after the outbreak. He had been prepared to live a depraved life at one time. How he had convinced himself that was alright was beyond him now. Never again, Daryl thought to himself as Aaron set a rhythm. He would never hold back, never shut up, never hide again, and he'd never want anyone as much as he wanted Aaron.

"And now I can ride you all night, every night, whenever I want," Aaron groaned.

Daryl adjusted so he could thrust up as Aaron came down on him. "Fuck yeah," he said as he watched Aaron's body move. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Aaron replied breathlessly. "So close, Daryl."

Daryl raised a hand to the back of Aaron's neck and drew him down to kiss him. With the other hand, he stroked Aaron. It wouldn't be much longer now. They were both breathing heavily and moving in rhythm. Daryl felt himself pulsate within Aaron, while Aaron pulsated in his hand. Aaron started moaning, getting louder with every stroke. He pushed away and leaned back a little to achieve the best position for Daryl to go deep. But Daryl wasn't satisfied with their current position. He wanted more. He wanted complete control. He wanted Aaron writhing beneath him. So in one swift movement, Daryl pulled Aaron to him, slid from the couch and laid him on the rug at their feet. Aaron wrapped his ankles around Daryl's waist, and Daryl pumped into him. His rhythm got faster and faster. Aaron felt himself build. Daryl went deep, making short hard thrusts, stroking Aaron in that most pleasurable spot sure to send him over the edge. They were both crying out, no longer worried about anyone hearing them. This was their home. This was their life. No one would ever get between them again.

Daryl stilled and let out a loud, euphoric, gratifying moan. At the same time, Aaron spilled between their close bodies, and cried out Daryl's name with fevered satisfaction. Finally, Daryl collapsed onto Aaron and kissed his neck as they both struggled to catch their breath. Feeling that he was crushing him, Daryl started to get up, but Aaron held him by the waist.

"No, don't. Stay here with me, just like this," Aaron pleaded.

"You sure I'm not too heavy for you?"

Aaron shook his head, a smile on his face and his eyes closed. "Not at all. I just don't want to lose this connection between us. I wanna feel you smooth up inside me. I want to listen to your heartbeat. I want to feel your breath wash over my skin. I want to experience every single thing about you, because this is how it should always be. From now on it's just you and me."

"I ain't going nowhere. Don't you worry about that," Daryl remarked. "You're stuck with me for as long as we live."

* * *

Later in the evening, Daryl and Aaron were sitting on the couch, watching the fire lick the sides of the hearth. Aaron made himself some tea while Daryl nursed a beer. Their alcohol supply was running low, especially since Deanna had ordered fewer supply runs lately. Since her son and husband's death, she closed herself off from the rest of the town most of the time. Rick asked that Maggie watch her and try to bring her back from her seclusion. The Alexandrians still looked to Deanna as their leader, even though Rick had been calling most of the shots lately. At the meeting, some of the people disagreed with Rick's thoughts and plans for the walker herd. At one point, Deanna spoke up and told them to listen to Rick and do as he said. This helped to get things started faster. There wasn't much time to get everything set up for the march, and once they let those walkers out of the quarry, there would be no turning back.

Aaron hadn't said much about it, but internally he was a ball of nerves thinking about Daryl leading the dead. He knew there'd be no stopping him. Daryl had the bike, the noise maker that would draw their attention. It only eased his mind a small fraction to know that Sasha and Abraham would be following him in a car. If things went bad, Daryl would abandon the bike and jump in the car with them. Aaron knew Daryl would do everything he could to make sure he accomplished his goal, and abandoning his post was a last resort.

"Tomorrow we start paving the way for the herd," Daryl mentioned, as he told Aaron about what he and Rick discussed. "Abe is going to take his construction crew out to that one road with all the cars. They're going to move them and line both sides of the street. But the big project will be at Redding and Marshall. We have to make sure the herd follows the right path, so we're going to erect walls with the steel from the construction site. It's got to be strong enough to withstand the force of the herd pushing on it. These things will keep going straight. They don't know how to alter their course. We don't have time to put up walls like the ones surrounding the town, but with enough manpower, we can use wood posts to attach the steel to, and reinforce them from behind using vehicles. We've got the RV that you used to bring us back to the town when you found us. We'll park that right at the main hit point."

"How are you going to make them turn?" Aaron wondered. "Won't they just keep piling up against the wall?"

"Rick had the idea to use the flare guns. They'll shoot off flares in the direction we need the herd to go. The bright flash should catch their attention and draw them the right way," Daryl explained.

"That's a pretty smart idea, but risky."

"This whole thing is nothing but one big gamble." Daryl stopped and shook his head.

"I thought you were ok with this. I thought you agreed with Rick's plan." Aaron was surprised to hear the doubt coming from Daryl.

"I do agree. There's no other way to deal with it, and I've tried to think of plenty of other options. But if we want to keep Alexandria standing, this is it. This is the only way. Yeah, it's risky and it's probably the most dangerous and stupid thing we've ever done, but we either leave Alexandria or live with a ticking time bomb at our backdoor. I don't think anyone is ready to give up on this place."

Aaron took a sip of his tea and huffed a slight laugh. "It's kind of funny to hear you say that. There was a time when you didn't care about Alexandria."

Daryl nodded as he remembered that time. "When I first arrived here, I didn't give a flying fuck about this place. I thought you all were delusional the way you lived so carefree, as though the world hadn't changed. That party Deanna held for us was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard of. I'd just been out there fighting every step of the way to stay alive, and suddenly I'm in suburbia hell with dinner parties and bonfires, people worrying about when they were going to get together for their next bridge club instead of where their next meal was going to come from."

"You came around though, in your own sweet time," Aaron commented, leaning against Daryl for a bit more warmth.

"Well, when I quit being a whiny bitch and realized what exactly you had going on here, I started to see the potential. I mean, a self-sustained city with its own power source, running water, food, housing … It was like finding a diamond amongst a sea of shit."

"That's one way of looking at it." Aaron leaned to the side and placed his cup on an end table. When he sat back, he was very quiet, and Daryl could feel his mood change.

"Everything alright?" Daryl asked him.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm just worried about you. That's all."

"Nothing's going to happen to me. I won't let it," Daryl assured him. "Hell, if nothing's happened to me yet–" he started to say, but Aaron covered his mouth to stop him.

"Don't finish that thought. It's like a bad omen or something."

Daryl observed him, caught off guard by this reaction. "You superstitious or something?"

"Remember my boyfriend I told you about, the airline steward? He used to say that about his job and flying across the ocean all the time. In the beginning, when there were only a few cases of people getting sick, I told him I was worried about him being on a plane with all those people, and not knowing if any of them were sick. He assured me everything was fine, and the airline was taking precautions. That bit about nothing happening after all that time … well, he said something similar to me. Then, he never came back."

"I thought you said he was cheating on you, and you left him before he came back," Daryl said, remembering their conversation. It was back when they were first learning about each other.

Aaron nodded. "He was cheating on me, and I was getting ready to leave him. That part was true. But when he never came back after his last flight, I waited around about a week for him. I tried calling, but all I ever got was his voice mail. I found out that at first his flight back was delayed, and then it was canceled. None of those overseas flights ever came back to the states, and by then the outbreak was getting really bad. I guess I was too scared to think about what actually happened to him, and I let myself believe that he never came back because he decided to stay with his new lover. He was an asshole for cheating on me, but he didn't deserve to turn into one of those things. It just sucked never knowing what happened."

Daryl took Aaron's chin in his fingers and turned his head so they were facing each other. Daryl kissed him gently, and then looked into his eyes. "I will always do whatever it takes to come home to you. If for some ungodly reason I don't make it, it's not because I ran away, but that I fought like hell to get back to you because you're all that I got and I love you. Always know that, ok?"

"I do know that, Daryl, but it's so much better to hear you say it. I love you too," Aaron admitted.

* * *

The next morning, bright and early, some of the townspeople had gathered on the street outside of one of their supply buildings. Rick was organizing the crew to go out and begin the work of fortifying the route of which they would lead the massive walker herd from the quarry to a place that was far away from Alexandria. Today, they would start on the wall at a major point in the move, the one that would force the walkers to change course. They loaded up the RV with shovels and wheelbarrows, bags, nails, hammers, saws, other hardware and tools, and plenty of jugs full of water. Abraham and his crew were bringing steel from the construction site, and dropping it off before they went off to move dozens of cars. Everything was going along smoothly, and a surprising amount of people showed up to help. It made Rick and his people hopeful about the Alexandrians. They were demonstrating their dedication to making their home safe.

Daryl and Aaron were helping to load the RV when Aaron spotted Eric approach the group. A woman named Holly, a friend of theirs, took the tools that Eric brought as contribution to the project. Then she pointed towards Aaron and Daryl. Eric stopped to look at them, but he turned away quickly, and shook his head at Holly as he backed away. She was trying to get him to stay and help, but Aaron could see that he was hesitant because of him and Daryl.

"Hey," Aaron said to Daryl. "Eric's here."

"Great," Daryl said with little enthusiasm.

"I don't think he's staying," Aaron said as he watched.

"Even better," Daryl commented.

"We need him to help. We need everyone that's able. Many hands make light work," Aaron said to convince Daryl.

"We've got enough as it is. Let him leave if he wants," Daryl said as he loaded an arm full of shovels into the RV. When Aaron didn't retaliate, Daryl stopped what he was doing to see what Aaron was thinking. "What, you want my permission to talk to him?" he said irritated. "I'm not going to be like that. It's your choice whether you want to remain his friend or not. For me, personally, I'm saying not, but I know the two of you got history. It's your decision."

"It's our decision, don't you think? I don't want you mad at me for talking to him," Aaron said.

Daryl abandoned what he was doing to give Aaron his full attention. "Do I like it? Not particularly, but I'm not going to throw a fit or make a scene." Daryl's hand slipped around Aaron's waist, and he pulled him gently towards him. "I know whose bed you come to every night, and that's reassurance enough for me. So go do what you need to do."

Aaron smiled. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Daryl let his arrogance shine through, smiled and rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't already know."

Aaron playfully punched him in the arm and muttered, "Asshole." As he turned to go and speak to Eric, Daryl slapped his ass and gave him a sultry look. It was that kind of confidence that drew Aaron to Daryl in the first place, and he never felt luckier to have him in his life.

Eric was walking away as Aaron trotted towards him. "Hey, Eric, wait up a second."

Eric stopped and slowly turned. "Oh, hi, I was just dropping off some supplies," he said nervously.

"Where you going?" Aaron asked.

"I've got a ton of things to do today," he answered.

"Like what?"

Eric looked around as though searching for an answer. "Well, for one, Mrs. Neudermyer–"

"Since when do you do stuff for her?" Aaron asked accusingly. "Listen, we need as many people as are willing to help out. We could use you on this project. There's not much time. The more people that help out, the faster we'll get it done."

Eric looked past Aaron, glancing around at all the people already helping. His eyes settled on Daryl loading the RV. "I don't know. It might be kind of awkward."

Aaron got a serious look on his face as he spoke. "Listen, we talked. He's ok with it. Besides, he'll be helping Rick fill sandbags. You can help me dig holes for the posts. Come on Eric, the community needs you."

"Always the negotiator," Eric pointed out. "Well … ok then, if you're sure."

When everything was ready, the crew headed out to the intersection where they needed to redirect the herd. The RV was unloaded, and Rick, Glenn, Carol and Daryl examined the area. After discussing things, Rick gathered the others and told them what they'd be doing. Everyone fell into place and started doing their parts. Aaron and Eric took up their shovels and started digging holes for the wood posts that the steel would be attached to. They worked on opposite sides without speaking to each other, each man consumed by their work. The matter at hand was a serious one. There was no time for much else.

Tara came by with some water for the two men. She handed a cup to Aaron with a kind smile. Then she gave one to Eric and paused before she went on. "It's good to see you out here, Eric."

He smiled uncomfortably. "Oh, yeah … well … you know … anything to help out the town."

She moved close to speak to him privately without others hearing their conversation. "Listen, I just want you to know that I think what you're doing takes a lot of balls."

"What, digging holes?" he jested nervously.

"You know what I mean. It's not easy coming back after losing yourself. I know from personal experience," she told him. Eric looked at her questioningly. He'd never known her backstory, and she knew this. "Back before I met up with these guys, I got myself involved with a guy." Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Tara rolled her eyes. "Not like that. You know I don't swing that way. No, he seemed like a good guy, and he just wanted what was best for me, my sister and her daughter. I believed in him, followed him, trusted him, but he led me astray. Anyways, the point is, I thought what I was doing was the right thing. I was sure of it because I wanted it more than anything in the world. I wanted peace and security, and this guy convinced me that he knew how to achieve it. I was wrong. I misjudged him, and when it came down to it, I saw his true colors. He was a bad guy, and I didn't realize it until it was too late." Tara paused, closed her eyes and remembered. "I sided with the guy who attacked Rick and the others, the one who destroyed the prison where they lived, the same one who beheaded Maggie's father in front of her and her sister. I stood beside him and watched as he swung that sword."

"My God, I didn't know," Eric said with horror. "But … but you and Maggie–"

"I know. We're close friends now. You'd never know I was the enemy at one time. I mean, I didn't do the killing, but I put all my trust and faith in the man that did. By all means, I should have been sent away, maybe even executed for my involvement. Instead, Maggie forgave me. Not only that, but she helped me see the good within myself. I'm a better person because of her. That girl I used to be … that wasn't me. That was someone frightened by the world, afraid to face things on her own. Because of Maggie's kindness, I came back from that dark place." Tara glanced towards Aaron. "I think you have the same chance."

"I don't know," Eric said with uncertainty.

"If Aaron didn't see the good in you, do you think he'd be trying to be your friend?"

"It was a different situation for you. Aaron and I were in a relationship, remember?" Eric said defiantly.

"I know exactly what you're going through. I'm in the same boat, man. There's not many people like us left, but it doesn't mean we have to give up. There's more to life than love or lovers. Friendship and trust is what's most important now, and that means security and hope for the future. You can't go back to what you and Aaron once had, but you can still be friends. That's really important, more than you might think. Just give it a chance, that's all I'm saying."

Eric smiled slightly. "Thanks, Tara. I get it, and I'll try."

"Good," she smiled back, and patted him on the shoulder before she went to hand out more water.

Eric observed Aaron for a moment before he went back over to where he was digging holes. It was rather miraculous that after all the deceit, Aaron still wanted to be his friend. Eric knew he would always want more than that, and it would be difficult to bury such strong feelings, but Tara was right. This was all he had in the world. Better not toss it away lightly.

Eric walked over to Aaron. "Listen, I … I just want to say thank you," he admitted.

"For what?" Aaron said, squinting into the sun.

"You didn't have to do this. You shouldn't even be speaking to me right now."

"I told you, Daryl doesn't–"

"No, this doesn't have anything to do with Daryl. This is about you and me, and the shitty things I did. I don't know why you'd even give me the time of day."

Aaron stuck his shovel in the ground and leaned on it, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Eric. "You and I, we'll always have a history. That can't be changed. It's not something I want to forget either. We were happy. We had some good times. We were also friends, and we still are. What you did was wrong, and I'll not forget it any time soon, but I'm willing to forgive. We are a part of this community which means we are a part of each other's lives. We have to find a way to get along because we're only as strong as our weakest link. We are not going to be that. We are stronger than that."

"Yeah, I can see that," Eric said.

"Ok, good. Now, back to work. We got a long way to go." Aaron gave a friendly smile.

Eric went back to finish digging his hole. He felt better about things. Maybe this could actually work. Maybe he could be happy just having Aaron as a friend. He was beginning to feel good about everything, when he looked up and saw Daryl approach Aaron, saw Aaron's face light up, noticed the life in his eyes and the shine of his smile. Daryl nudged Aaron with his shoulder, a very subtle touch, but one that spoke volumes. Suddenly, the small glimmer of hope within Eric sputtered and went out. He could try to be Aaron's friend, and maybe he could learn to live with that and nothing more, but to see Daryl fan flames in Aaron that Eric never could was too much. He realized that Aaron never had that kind of reaction, not the way he came alive when Daryl was near. It was a difficult realization, and Eric grasped ahold of the reality of it all. It was never about Daryl popping up out of nowhere and taking Aaron from him. There was never a spark in Aaron's eyes even before Daryl came along. Eric's love for Aaron had always been one-sided. Aaron had merely tolerated him, nothing more.

Eric slowed as he shoveled dirt out of the hole, until the next time when he left it there. He backed away, turning so he couldn't see the silent exchange between Aaron and Daryl. He plopped down of the ground, bent his knees and hung his head. Someone held a glass of water out to him, but he didn't look up to see who it was. He just shook his head, refusing the water, and let reality whisper in his ear, telling him what his next move should be. One thing was for certain, Alexandria wasn't big enough for three gay men.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 Under Siege**

Daryl and Aaron were sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a delicious meal. While Daryl had been out helping with the construction for moving the walker herd, he took the long way home, and was lucky enough to come across a wild pig. He knew one of their plans was to introduce livestock into the town, but he was alone and had no way to trap it and bring it back. The animal was pretty feral, too, so he decided it would be better used as food. He kept part of it for him and Aaron, and gave the rest to the kitchen. Now, he and Aaron were devouring a nice gamey roast, a couple beers, and each other's company.

"I honestly have never tasted wild pig before," Aaron said, going back for seconds.

"My brother and I use to hunt for boar all the time. There's something about an animal that feeds off the land. It changes the taste of the meat. Ain't nothing like the stuff you'd get from a grocery store. That shit was tasteless compared to this," Daryl said.

"It's amazing and delicious. Kudos to the chef," Aaron jested. He finished chewing his last bite and wiped his mouth on a napkin. "So, tomorrow–"

"It's only a dress rehearsal," Daryl cut in. "We're going down to the quarry first, and we're going through each check point so that everyone knows exactly what to do. Shouldn't take but a few hours."

"And then the day after that it's show time," Aaron said dismally.

"It has to be done. You know that," Daryl replied.

"I know. I just wish I was going with you. We've always made a great team. You know that. We watched out for each other's backs."

"I've got someone else watching my back. Two, to be exact. Sasha and Abraham will be there in the car. Something goes wrong, I ditch the bike, jump in the car, and we're out of there," Daryl explained again.

"No, you won't abandon the plan, even if something goes wrong. I know you too well, Dixon," Aaron said with a brow raised.

"You do know me, don't you? I like the sound of that." Daryl got up, and carried their plates to the kitchen.

Aaron smiled to himself and took another swig from his beer. He liked the fact that he and Daryl were so close they could easily read each other. Daryl knew Aaron was worried for him. He knew it bothered Aaron that he couldn't come along this time. It's why Daryl was making it all seem like a Sunday stroll through the park. He didn't want Aaron to worry.

Upon hearing dishes being put in the sink, Aaron got up from the table, picked up a few serving plates and took them into the kitchen. He set the plates on the counter, and went to Daryl, who stood at the sink. Aaron observed Daryl wash the soiled plates, but then leave them in the sink.

"I thought I trained you better than that," Aaron said from behind.

"What, I washed them off," Daryl protested.

"But you didn't clean them, and it's your turn to do dishes. No wonder Carol insists on being our housekeeper," Aaron jested. His arms slipped around Daryl's waist. "Do I need to show you again what to do?"

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, eyes smoldering already. "Teach me, teacher."

Aaron pushed his hips against Daryl's backside, making him lean against the sink. He kissed his way up the side of Daryl's neck, and whispered into his ear. "Who am I kidding? A bad boy never learns." Aaron's hand moved to cup Daryl's awakening cock through his pants, making Daryl release the slightest moan. Suddenly, Daryl spun around taking Aaron with him, and in one swift move, Daryl had Aaron pinned against the sink, catching him off guard. "Ok," Aaron said, surprised. "I guess you've learned a thing or two."

Daryl started ravishing Aaron's neck, unbuttoning his shirt, and nipping at his skin. "I've learned what turns you on," he said, cupping Aaron and gently squeezing him to life.

"Oh yeah," Aaron moaned. "You … certainly have."

Daryl unbuckled Aaron's belt and reached inside to stroke him. With his other hand, he undid his own belt. "Turn around," Daryl whispered.

Aaron anchored his hands to the edge of the sink and let Daryl ready him. He felt the cool air on his ass, and then the heat of Daryl's body pushing against him. He felt the suddenness of being filled, and Daryl's tongue licking the back of his ear. Aaron's fingers clenched the stainless steel, and he threw his head back as a moan escaped from his lungs. "Oh yeah, Daryl."

Daryl pounded into him fast and hard, needing nothing more than a quick release. There was always time to make love slowly and thoroughly when they laid in bed at night, but a quick fuck against the kitchen sink made them come just as hard, if not harder. But it was the fact that Daryl could do this anytime he wanted to or needed to that provoked such animalistic behavior, not to mention the fact that Aaron didn't complain when he did.

Daryl pulled Aaron against his chest, reached his hands around and felt the smoothness of Aaron's stomach. "You make me so fucking horny," Daryl whispered as he continued to manipulate his lover.

"Right there. Oh yeah, right there," Aaron cried out.

Aaron's calls of passion ignited Daryl's desire, and he let himself drown in the feel of his orgasm. He hadn't felt Aaron's hands reach back and grasp his ass to hold them tight against each other. He didn't remember taking Aaron's solid cock in his hand and stroking him until his hand slid easily over the sticky flesh. All Daryl knew was the elation of his own flesh, alive with electric pulses that directed every pleasurable sensation straight to his buried cock.

"Why can't we just stay in this state permanently?" Aaron said between heaving breaths.

"Why can't I ever get enough of you?" Daryl growled in return.

After a few moments, Daryl reluctantly pulled from Aaron. They kissed slowly, tongues entwined, lips sliding perfectly together. When they finally separated, they looked deep into each other's eyes.

"I don't ever want you to get enough of me," Aaron said, and then he smiled wickedly. "But I like it when you try."

"Come on, let's go upstairs. Leave the dishes for the morning," Daryl pleaded. He had a sudden vision of the quarry, and of the sizeable feat he was facing. His lust turned to pure longing. He just needed to hold Aaron against him, submerge in the warmth of his body, and the strength of his arms surrounding him.

They entered the bedroom, undressed, and slipped beneath the covers. Their bodies drew together like a pair of magnets. They touched and caressed one another with love and excessive attentiveness. They embraced as though it was the first and last. They took their time when they finally made love again, and fell into a deep and comforting slumber knowing that right then, in that moment in time, they were together in mind, body and soul, and nothing could ever tear them apart again.

* * *

It was still dark when Aaron heard a rustling sound that woke him up. He blinked and cleared the sleep from his eyes, narrowing them in the dimly lit bedroom. Daryl was up and just finishing getting dressed.

"You gonna sneak out without saying good morning?" Aaron said with a groggy voice.

Daryl turned his head towards the bed as he finished buckling his pants. "I didn't want to wake you, especially after last night."

Aaron smiled as he remembered. "I'm a little sore, but in a very good way, mind you. Actually, I wanted to see you off this morning."

"You don't need to. This is just a practice run, remember? I'll be back this afternoon."

"I know, but you're still going outside the walls. That alone is a risk. And I'm not going to be there with you," Aaron reminded him. "You better be careful out there."

Daryl went to Aaron's side of the bed and leaned down to kiss him. It was the kind of kiss that usually led to more strenuous activities, as the one's they explored the previous night. Just when Aaron felt himself surrender to Daryl's seduction, it was over.

"You can't get me all hot and bothered like this, and then just leave me here," Aaron grunted in complaint as he stretched. The sheet fell away and just the corner covered his excitement.

"Let this be just a sample of the things I want to do to you tonight," Daryl replied smartly.

"You're such a brute," Aaron jested. "And you never cleaned up last night," he called as Daryl went to leave the bedroom.

"The way I see it, I think I cleaned up pretty well last night," Daryl suggested playfully. "I'll be back for my winnings later. Be ready," he warned, and then he was gone.

Aaron still held the smile on his face as he collapsed back into his pillow. He put his hands behind his head and waited, listening for Daryl's bike as it roared to life. "Now, all I'll think about today is what's in store for tonight." Aaron closed his eyes and conjured up images in his mind until the sun came up. He finally got out of bed and dressed, went downstairs to make his breakfast, and washed the dishes. He'd never look at that stainless steel sink the same way again.

After a little while, Aaron left and went out for a walk. Everything was so peaceful today. It was a little quieter than normal, but that was to be expected. A lot of people went out to help, and those that stayed behind were worried about their loved ones. Aaron was one of them, though he kept his emotions buried.

As he passed the pantry, Carol came out carrying a basket full of canned goods and other food items. He crossed the street at a hurried pace to catch up to her. "Good morning," he sang cheerfully. "Here, let me." Aaron took the basket from Carol with a smile.

"My, my. Aren't you chipper this morning. How's married life?" she said.

"Married?" Aaron asked confused.

"Well, you might as well be now that you two live together." She walked backwards in front of Aaron and gave him a critical eye before facing forwards again. "And you have a certain kind of glow about you. If you weren't a guy, I'd suspect you were pregnant," she teased.

"It's called being blissfully happy. I know it's only been a week since we moved in, but I really have never been so elated in all my life. Who knew it would take the ending of the world for that to happen though."

"Speaking of which, while the others are out today, we need to keep up business as usual around here. Some of these people are on edge, especially those with loved ones out there. The rest, not so much. It's just another beautiful day in the neighborhood." Carol shook her head and waved at an elderly couple sitting on their front porch as her and Aaron walked by. "They are all so clueless. How are we ever going to get them to change?"

"Maybe we won't have to. Once Rick and the others get that herd moved away at a safe distance–"

"There will always be threats," Carol interrupted. "If not from walkers, then it will be outsiders. One day, someone is going to stumble across this community, and they're going to want it for themselves."

"Like Rick?" Aaron challenged.

Carol stopped walking and crossed her arms. Aaron stopped too, and turned to her. She cocked her head to the side as she regarded him. "Rick wants to see this place secure. He wants this place to work for everyone here. Trust me, if he wanted it for himself, everyone else would be out there right now."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean … Look, I trust Rick. I know he's doing what he thinks is best. I just … I wish I was one of the ones out there right now. I feel like I know the land better than anyone, and instead, Rick has me here babysitting all those who stayed behind," Aaron explained.

"You don't think I want to be out there too? I've been with Rick since the beginning. I know what it means to take chances. This is the riskiest move we've ever made, and I'm not a part of it. Those are my people out there. I should be with them, and it's killing me that I'm not. Instead, I'm talking recipes with the kitchen crew, and listening to Mrs. Neudermyer complain about boxed pasta. I swear, that woman is like fingernails on a chalkboard. She wouldn't last five seconds out there. Yet, here I am playing Susie Homemaker." Carol paused to laugh. "I called her out today. Did you know she smokes?"

"No, really?" Aaron replied.

"Yeah, I saw her through the window. She's always telling everyone how to eat healthy and all that kind of bullshit, and there she was, puffing away on a menthol." Carol shook her head as she chuckled at the vision. "Poor woman can't even smoke right. Menthols?"

"Don't tell Daryl. He said he wouldn't be caught dead smoking those. Even if that was the last pack on earth, he'd quit before he'd give in to smoking menthols."

They stopped and had a quick laugh over the silliness of it all. Then they started walking again. "Listen, Aaron, we all have roles to plays, and not every one of them will be the one we think we're cut out for, but whatever is thrown at us, we just have to accept it and make the best of it," Carol said.

Aaron nodded. "Thanks." He looked down into the basket he was carrying. "So, what's on the menu?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that. Some of the older women are having a bridge party later. I thought I'd make them a casserole. Keep them occupied. Mrs. Neudermyer will be there. I thought I'd throw in extra macaroni just to piss her off," Carol smiled fiendishly.

They finally arrived at Carol's home. Aaron carried the basket inside and set it on the kitchen counter. He took the items out and lined them up. Carol took out a glass casserole dish from one of the cabinets, and prepared to start putting her meal together. Aaron thought he'd stay and help her, but he was actually avoiding something. He was thinking about the photo hidden away in a drawer at home, the one he said he was going to give back to Eric. Carol caught him with a far off look and questioned him.

"Penny for your thought?" she asked.

"Just some unfinished business I need to attend to that I'm not looking forward to," he answered.

"Oh, that explains why the sudden interest in casseroles," she said, calling him out. "Does this have something to do with Eric?"

"Gee, how'd you guess?" he said sarcastically.

"I thought you were done with all that." Carol retrieved a pan hanging from the pot rack and put it on the stove.

"For the most part, yes, but it's not really over, not as long as we all live in the same community."

Carol turned the stove on to start heating the pan. Then she got the cutting board out and put it on the counter. "Does Daryl know you two are still on speaking terms?" She sounded like a judging mother.

"We talked about it briefly." Aaron sat down on one of the bar stools, and crossed his arms on the counter in front of him. "I think he understands that I can't just ignore Eric."

"Why not?" Carol asked.

"You wouldn't understand."

Carol turned to face Aaron, pointing at him with her knife. "What you don't seem to understand is that a person like Eric is like cancer to a relationship. He might be gone for the moment, but he is always lurking about ready to reattach when you are most vulnerable." She went back to cutting up vegetables. "And look at you now. Daryl's out there getting ready to do something dangerous … again … and you're worried. It's the perfect time for Eric to slink back in."

"You have a very colorful use of analogy."

"I'm serious, Aaron. You have to be careful. You may not see it because you're too close to the source, but I see right through Eric. Sure, he's wounded right now, but that doesn't mean he's given up. You open the slightest crack in that door, and he'll be right back inside."

The front door creaked open, and Carl came in with Judith. He'd been out for a walk after seeing his father off earlier. Aaron and Carol halted their conversation for the moment, but Aaron got the gist of it. He knew what she was saying was true, but he was sure he could handle things. Right now, at this moment, he just couldn't completely ignore Eric. He feared what might happen if he did, and he didn't want that on his conscience. Just before Aaron got his memory back, he and Eric were seriously discussing leaving Alexandria for another community rumored to exist somewhere, a place that Eric said was more accepting of people like them. Now that Pete and Gerrard were dead, and Alison was being segregated on the other side of town, it wasn't as much of an issue. But Aaron knew that once Eric got an idea into his head, it was difficult to change his mind. It was for this reason that Aaron thought it was important to retain some kind of friendship with Eric.

"Hi Carl. How was your walk?" Carol greeted with a smile.

"Guess who I ran into?" Carl said.

"I don't know, George Clooney?" Carol joked.

"Father Gabriel is still at it. He's trying to get back into everyone's good graces," Carl informed. He took his jacket off and hung it on the coatrack. "I know Dad wishes he would just go away, and that he doesn't trust him, but … I can't help think that he's being sincere."

Aaron took Judith out of the stroller and held her in his arms. "I don't know Father Gabriel like you all do, but from what you've said, it doesn't seem that he can be trusted."

"He said he wants to learn to protect himself. I tried to give him a few pointers when we were back at the church, but he refused to even listen. Now he's willing to try, at least," Carl continued.

"That man is the last person in town who needs to own a weapon," Carol warned.

"But shouldn't we allow people to have the ability to protect themselves? If we refuse them, we're no different than Deanna making us lock up our weapons every time we come back to town," Carl said, bringing up a very good point.

"We'll see. When your father gets back, we'll talk to him about it, ok?" Carol said.

"Sure," Carl gave in. "Want me to take Judith upstairs?"

Aaron smiled as the baby held his finger. "No, I've got her for now. Go on and have some time to yourself, Carl."

"Thanks." Carl went upstairs to his room.

Aaron sat down, put Judith on his leg and bounced her until she giggled. He cooed and made funny faces, and she loved every minute of it. Carol kept her eye on them as she worked her magic with the casserole. She couldn't help smiling. "You're good with her. Did you have younger siblings growing up?"

"No, I was an only child. I don't know. Kids have always been drawn to me for some reason, especially babies. It's probably the only thing that I regret missing out on … you know … having a child of my own. I always thought that one day, I'd settle down with someone and we would adopt. It was becoming easier to do … for a gay couple anyways … before the outbreak. But that dream will never come true now."

Judith gave a big yawn and rubbed her eyes. Carol wiped her hands on a towel and went to Aaron. "Well, you can come by here anytime and entertain this little bundle of joy." Carol took the baby from him. "I'll put her down for her nap. Be right back."

"I have to go anyways. I'll see you later," he said.

"Alright." Carol took Judith's arm and made her wave. "Bye bye, Aaron. Can you wave bye to Aaron?" she said in baby talk. Judith stuck her bottom lip out and threatened to complain. "I don't think she wants you to go. Why don't you come back in a bit? By then, the casserole will be in the oven, and I'll make us some tea," Carol invited as she ascended the stairs.

"Will do," Aaron answered, and he slipped out the door.

He made his way home to get the photo and pay a visit to Eric. He felt bad about hiding it from Daryl. Weren't they at a point where they didn't need to do that anymore? Aaron thought they were, but he felt compelled to stick the photo in a drawer instead of telling Daryl that Eric left it behind. He probably wouldn't care if he'd seen it. He might not understand if he found it hiding like that. Aaron decided now was the time to give it back to Eric, especially while Daryl was out for the day. Even though Daryl said he understood, Aaron just thought it would be easier to take care of this last piece of business without Daryl there. So when he finally got home, he went to the drawer, wiggled it open and took the photo. He looked at it once more, really studying it this time. Eric smiled ear to ear, so happy, as though nothing could ever go wrong again. As for himself, he noticed that his smile was more subtle. He looked content, settled. He wondered what he'd look like in a picture with Daryl next to him. For one, his expression of joy would be more genuine. This made him think that the next time he had a camera handy, he needed to have Carol take their picture. It was such a rare thing to have these days, a photo of a loved one. He could have used one now, a way to see Daryl when he wasn't around, to feel closer to him. He had a mental image, but with a picture, he could see into Daryl's eyes and think of all the times they'd shared such moments.

On his way to the townhomes, Aaron came across Maggie and Deanna. Maggie looked worried, but no more than usual. Deanna, though, she looked defeated at best. Aaron knew she was struggling to come to terms with the things she'd been overlooking. For so long, she kept Alexandria running smoothly, as though there wasn't anything bad happening outside the walls. And she had done a phenomenal job at keeping everything as normal as possible. Only a handful of residents went outside, where they saw exactly how the world had deteriorated. The rest still thought of this place as a true safe zone, a place to live and survive until help arrived. But that was the problem. No one was coming. No one would ever come. Perhaps Deanna was beginning to realize that when she allowed Rick's group to stay, and when she immediately put them in high positions above some residents that had been here since the beginning. It wasn't about seniority, though. It was about knowing how to protect and survive, and that's what most Alexandrians were missing. Aaron knew this. It's why he was happiest being a recruiter. Out there, he was in charge. It was up to him to decide who would be a good addition to make the town stronger and more stable, and he was confident that his best decision was Rick and the others.

"Good morning," Aaron greeted with a genuine smile.

"Hi Aaron," Maggie said returning the smile. Deanna remained nonresponsive. Maggie glanced at her and then back to Aaron. "We were just on our way out to see where we will plant the crops for next spring."

"Good. Wow, I'm really looking forward to having a supply of fresh vegetables," he said excitedly. "So, where is that going to be?"

"Right now it's just outside the walls that way. Abraham and his crew will be extending the walls to incorporate that area into the town, but we can at least get the ground tilled and ready before that. We want to make sure we get the planting season in place for the best chance at a healthy crop for next year."

"Sounds good. Just be careful," Aaron warned politely.

"I'm surprised you didn't go with the others," Deanna said, finally finding her voice, as weak as it was.

"Oh, well … Rick thought I'd be of better use here, you know, keeping an eye on Carl and Judith," he answered.

"Rick is a smart man. He knows what he's doing," Deanna responded. There was something telling in the way she said it, as though she no longer felt that way about herself or her decisions.

"That he is, but you are our leader, Deanna," Aaron said to let her know she was still regarded this way.

She made the connection, and there was a slight spark in her eyes as she looked at Aaron. She forced a smile. "Thank you, Aaron."

"Well, I better be on my way. Got some errands to run," Aaron said.

"See you later," Maggie smiled. Deanna nodded. Everyone went on their way.

Aaron stood at the bottom of the steps that led up to Eric's townhouse door. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts about what he would say when the door clicked and opened. Eric emerged, took one step down, and saw Aaron standing on the sidewalk below. He stopped, closing his door behind him. The two men observed each other silently, neither one knowing what to say, waiting for the other one to speak first. Together they stammered responses, and then laughed at the silliness of their nervousness.

"Aaron, I'm surprised to see you here," Eric said after Aaron gestured for him to speak first.

"Yeah, I uh, I was just checking to see how you're doing," Aaron said, his palm rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm ok. You?"

"Great."

Silence crept in between them again. "So, you want to come in?" Eric offered.

"Oh, I … I don't know. You were on your way somewhere. I don't want to keep you."

"It's fine. Nothing urgent." Eric turned back towards his door and opened it. "Come on in." He disappeared inside.

Aaron looked around the street first, feeling like he needed an escape hatch all of a sudden. Then he reluctantly went up the stairs and inside. There was a foyer with a set of stairs that led immediately to an upper floor. Next to the stairs was a hallway. Eric pointed that way. "The kitchen is in there. The dining room is to the right. Through that door on the left is an office. The living room is on the second level. And … bedrooms are on the third floor."

"Wow, three floors. Interesting layout," Aaron observed.

"Well, running up and down all these stairs keeps me in shape," Eric laughed nervously. "There's supposed to be storage space in the basement, but it was never finished. These townhomes were still being constructed when … well, you know. Deanna said that when she first arrived here, none of these places were finished. The material was all here, drywall, spackling, baseboards, stuff like that. Reg and their sons completed a few, including the one they occupy." He stopped and cleared his throat. "I mean, the one where Deanna and Spenser live." He looked around at the place. "There's still three more units needing to be finished. Guess anyone who wants them will have to do it themselves."

"Listen, Eric I can't stay long, but–"

"Come into the kitchen. No reason to stand in the hallway," Eric interrupted as he led the way.

Aaron followed him and was surprised by how big and open the kitchen was. "This is beautiful. I like the high ceilings."

"Yes, they are lovely, aren't they? Of course, the other floors have standard height ceilings." Eric laughed at himself. "Would you listen to me, as though I'm a real estate agent or something? I couldn't give a crap, but it is a nice looking place."

Aaron laughed at him. "It does feel a bit silly, doesn't it?"

"Something to drink?" Eric offered.

"Oh, well, I really should be–"

"Listen, if we're going to put the past behind us and move on as friends, we have to stop acting like we don't know how to act," Eric told him.

"Alright. Whatever you have is fine."

Eric went to the fridge and looked. "I have a couple beers."

"That's good," Aaron replied quickly.

Eric turned with a bottle in each hand, making a disappointed face. "Unfortunately, it's that apple ale stuff. Can you believe someone actually took the time to grab these and bring them back?"

"Guess it's better than nothing, right?"

Eric handed one to Aaron. "Come on up to the living room. I'll show you the rest of the place, if you're interested."

"Sure, why not." Aaron followed Eric up a flight of stairs that opened into the living area. "This is a big space," he observed.

"It's pretty much all that's on this floor. It's kind of a pain to have to run down to the kitchen to grab something and bring it back here, but it discourages me from midnight snacking." He pointed to the couch. "Have a seat."

Aaron sat on the couch, and Eric took up an oversized chair with a matching ottoman. He plopped down and threw his feet up. The large chair seemed to swallow his lithe frame. "So, where's Daryl?" Eric asked bluntly.

"He's out with the others doing a practice run for tomorrow. Hey, I want to thank you again for helping the other day," Aaron said, taking a drink. He made a face as he tried to swallow the stale beer.

"No problem. It felt good, actually, to contribute. I haven't done much of that lately. Is that why you're here? You got another project?"

"No," Aaron said leaning forward and reaching into his jacket. "I came here to give you something. You left it at the house, and I thought it was best that you kept it." Aaron pulled out the folded paper.

Eric knew right away what it was. "I don't want it. It's yours to do with as you please."

"Ok, then it will please me to see that you keep it." Aaron got up and handed it to Eric. Eric closed his eyes, as though he didn't want to accept it. Aaron could see his struggle. "It's a good picture of the two of us. I know it was only taken a couple years ago, but we look so much younger for some reason."

Eric reluctantly opened the paper and looked. "I remember when we took this."

"So do I. Who was it that took the picture? I can't really remember. It's one of those pieces of my memory that didn't come back."

"Holly took it," Eric said, sounding far away as he gazed at the photo. "You said it wouldn't develop, but it came out alright. And then you handed me the key to the house."

"I was just thinking about that the other day. You see, it's like I said, this brings back good memories, and that's why you should have it," Aaron said softly.

"They were good memories back then, but now," Eric paused and shook his head slowly. "Aaron, I don't know that I can do this," he confessed.

"It's just a picture," Aaron said.

"I'm not talking about the picture. I mean, I don't know if I can stay here … in Alexandria."

"You can't leave. Where would you go? Surely, you don't still mean to look for that community," Aaron questioned. Eric put his head down and looked away. "You can't," Aaron said again. "You don't know what's out there. You don't even know if this place exists. Where did you even hear about it? Who told you there was another safe zone?"

"Back when I was seeing Alison for therapy, she told me about it."

So there it was, the missing piece of the puzzle. "Alison? And you believed her?"

"I did back then," Eric admitted.

"She tried to get us banished. She was going to take over Deanna's position and throw Rick and his group out too. She's deranged or haven't you noticed."

"I know all that," Eric countered. "But she was trying to help me. She knew Alexandria wasn't the place for me, for people like us. She warned me that something was going to happen. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen, and then you were attacked. It all went down just like she warned it might."

"I don't think it was so much a warning as it was a glimpse of what was going to happen. Who do you think got Pete and Gerrard all frenzied? Who do you think helped them get their weapons? Alison was the ringleader. She didn't give a shit about you."

"She gave more of a shit than you, off gallivanting around with Daryl. You left me, Aaron, and I was completely alone. I've never been alone before. Why do you think I started going to her? I needed her help so I could cope." Eric stopped himself. He hadn't wanted to argue, but there were some things that still needed addressing.

"And you deceived me when I was most vulnerable," Aaron shot back.

"That's because I loved you," Eric yelled standing from his chair. He walked over to the window so he didn't have to look at Aaron. "Dammit, I still do, and it kills me to see you with him."

Aaron stood and went to Eric. "And it hurts me to think that you'd rather lie to get me back than tell the truth and see me happy." Aaron laid a hand on Eric's shoulder. "Look, neither one of us did the right thing here. I led you into a relationship that I couldn't really contribute to, and you lied to me with fake memories. Eric, I don't want you to hurt anymore. I want us to be friends. I want you to know that I'm there for you. I need you to understand that I want you here. I'm asking that you find a way to make this work, and whatever you do, please don't leave."

Eric finally turned from the window to face Aaron. There were tears misting in his eyes, and he embraced Aaron as he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I lied."

"I'm sorry too," Aaron said in return as he held Eric to him. "I'm sorry that I couldn't love you the way you loved me." Aaron separated from him to look him in the eyes. "We will be ok. This can work. You gotta know that. I'll always be your friend because I care about you, and that's something that's always been there between us."

Eric nodded and wiped a tear that escaped down his cheek. "I want it to work."

"It will, Eric, as long as you know the boundaries, and I think you do. We can be alright, you and me. Ok?"

"Yeah, ok," Eric replied, his voice choked up a bit, but he wore a smile.

"Now, how about we find a frame for that–" Aaron started to say, but he thought he heard yelling outside. "What was that?"

Eric creased his brows and shook his head as he turned to look back out the window. His breath hitched. "Oh my God! Aaron!"

Aaron dashed to the window and looked to the street below. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. "What the hell?" There were people in the street, and they weren't residents. They were armed with bats and machetes, knives and axes. They were dressed in dark dirty clothes.

"Who are these people? How'd they get in here?" Eric asked. Suddenly, their friend Holly ran out into the street to confront a man. He took out a knife and slashed at her, jabbing it into her side. She collapsed to the ground.

Aaron pulled on Eric's arm. "Get away from the window." It was his first instinct to hide so that these intruders didn't see them upstairs and come into the townhouse. Eric ducked onto the floor, and Aaron crawled back to the window. He peeked over the edge. "We've got to go help her."

"But … but that guy, he … he–" Eric stammered.

"He's gone I think. We need to go to Holly. She might still be alive. We have to see."

"Aaron, who are these people? Are we under attack?" Eric asked with panic.

"I don't know. Listen, you have to help me. The infirmary isn't far. We'll take her there," Aaron said, ignoring Eric's questions.

Eric looked stunned, and he wasn't seeing Aaron. Aaron, on the other hand, knew they couldn't stay for fear of these people going from house to house. There was no back door to the townhouse, and they would be trapped. Aaron went to Eric and grasped both of his shoulders. "We can do this. We used to do this kind of thing all the time."

"You did, not me. I used to hang back while you went in to check places out."

"Holly is our friend. If we don't go to her, no one else will. Are you with me? I said, are … you … with … me?" Aaron demanded.

"Y-Yeah. Ok," Eric said nervously. He followed Aaron downstairs, but stopped him. "Wait! We don't have any weapons."

Aaron glanced around quickly, ran to the kitchen where he found a butcher's block, and retrieved two of the largest knives from the set. "This will have to do, but hopefully we can get her to the infirmary without any trouble."

They went to the front door, and Aaron opened it a crack. He held his hand out behind him, signaling for Eric to stay put a moment. When it looked like no one was in the street, he gestured for Eric to follow him. They snuck down the stairs, always staying alert. Aaron looked forward while Eric watched their back. Whoever had done this was gone, but they didn't know where they were or how many there were. Finally, they got to Holly, who was lying face down on the pavement. "Keep watch," Aaron said, "while I check her."

Eric kept an eye on their surroundings, glancing towards Aaron. "How is she?"

Aaron turned her onto her side, revealing a pool of blood. "She's hurt pretty bad. Fucker left the knife in her. She's still breathing though."

Just then, Holly struggled to open her eyes open a crack. "A-Aaron … help … m-me."

"It's ok. Eric and I are here. We're going to get you over to Denise." Aaron looked around once more. "Ok, help me get her up."

Eric struggled to help Aaron, but with both their attention on Holly, no one was watching out for the intruders. Holly was almost like dead weight, and she didn't have much strength to get up herself.

"Aaron! Eric! Oh my God! What's going on?" It was Tara, rushing across the street when she saw the three of them.

"Holly's been hurt. Help us get her to the infirmary," Aaron told her.

Tara immediately took over Eric's position, and he stepped out of her way. Then he started watching the area around them, following Tara and Aaron as they practically carried Holly across the street. They burst through the door, finding Denise and Eugene standing in the middle of the room. Denise looked dumbfounded. "What the hell is going on out there? I heard shouting and looked out to see people running around attacking us." As she spoke, she glanced down at the blood soaking Holly's shirt. Then she saw the white knife handle. "Jesus," she muttered, and for a split second she froze. Then Denise shook herself back to reality. "Uh, over there. Put her on the table."

Tara, Aaron and Eric got Holly on the examine table, and then stepped out of the way. Denise looked her over quickly, lifting Holly's shirt. Denise cringed at what she saw. "She's lost a lot of blood."

"I'm O positive if that helps you any," Eric mentioned.

"It would if I knew what type she–"

"Holly told me once that she's A positive," Eric said, interrupting Denise.

"That will work. I have to do this now. Are you up for it?" Denise asked.

"Sure, anything you need." Eric rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and Denise got out the material she needed.

"Just have a seat there, and I'll get you hooked up in no time."

Aaron stayed and watched, but his mind was on Alexandria. He wanted to go out and see what was going on. He remembered what Rick told him, and all he could think about was seeing to Carl and Judith. And where was Carol in all of this? Meanwhile, Denise was prepping Holly, and she had removed the knife. Now she was second guessing her abilities to treat such a serious matter. Tara and Eugene were trying to talk sense into her. Eric was sitting next to Holly, giving her his blood. He gazed across the room to Aaron. He looked scared and worried, which made Aaron come to a decision about what he should do. Eric must have seen the determination in his face, and shook his head.

"Aaron, please," Eric begged before anything was said.

"I have to go," he said.

"There are dangerous people out there. You don't even have a weapon," Eric argued.

"Someone has to get to the weapons room."

"I'm coming with you," Tara said after convincing Denise she could help Holly.

Aaron didn't argue. He knew Tara was a good shot, and right now they needed all the man, and woman, power they could muster. They both looked around the room at the others. Eric was giving blood and Denise had to save Holly, which left Eugene.

"I can't go. I'm sorry," Eugene said.

Aaron was fine with that. There was no time to argue, but Tara wasn't through. She tried to talk Eugene into helping them, but he refused. There was no more time to waste, and Tara and Aaron headed for the door. Aaron paused before leaving to look back at Eric. Clearly, Eric didn't want Aaron risking his life yet again, but there was no stopping a determined man, especially one like Aaron.

"I'll be back, I promise," Aaron said just before he slipped out of the door.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27 A Plague Of Wolves**

Aaron and Tara headed out into the open, carefully making their way towards the weapons room. All they were armed with were a couple knives, one that Aaron had gotten from Eric's kitchen. So far they had avoided detection, but they had seen a few of the intruders as they ran through the streets.

"Who do you think they are?" Tara whispered as they hid around the corner of a building.

Aaron stuck his head out to observe a couple men dressed in dark colors. One had a baseball bat, the other had an axe. Suddenly, a resident ran out of his house, chased by a third man. The resident ran right into the two men waiting in front of the house. The guy with the bat hit the victim in the head, knocking him to the ground. He swung a few more times, until blood stained the shirt of the man being hit.

"Shit," Aaron said under his breath. There was nothing he could do. They were too far away.

"What?" Tara whispered from behind.

"They got Al," Aaron told her.

"We need to get to the guns," she said desperately.

Aaron watched the man with the bat. He wiped his finger in Al's blood and scrawled something on his forehead. When the attacker looked up, Aaron noticed a bloody W painted on the man's head.

"I've seen that before," Aaron said. Tara looked around the corner to see what Aaron was talking about. "That sign, the W. Daryl and I came across a dead woman tied to a tree, and she had that same thing carved into her forehead."

"What's it mean?" Tara asked.

"Nothing good. I think this is some rogue group going around invading camps, stealing their supplies, killing survivors. I've seen roamers with the same markings, too. Perhaps they mark their victims and leave them to turn," Aaron said.

"It doesn't make sense why anyone would leave the dead to turn," Tara wondered.

"At the cannery where Daryl and I got trapped, there were lots of roamers stored in trucks, like a trap. We opened one door and they all opened, releasing them. Most had the same W carved into their heads. I still don't understand it."

"Well," Tara said. "Whatever is going on, they're inside Alexandria. I'll be damned if I'm going to let them take over this place."

"With Rick, Daryl and the rest out on this practice run, it's up to us to stop it. You ready to do this?" Aaron asked.

"As I'll ever be. Let's go."

Just as they stepped out from the building, they heard a loud crash and a horn blew steadily. "What the hell is that?" Tara asked.

"Nothing good," Aaron said again.

Suddenly, a man jumped out at them, and started to attack Tara with a large metal pipe. He didn't see Aaron, who grabbed his arm to keep him from hitting Tara. Caught off guard, the man tried to turn to see who was holding him, but Aaron plunged his knife into the base of the dirty man's scull. Blood splattered on Aaron's face and shirt, but he didn't notice. His main focus was on saving Tara.

"Thanks," she said and Aaron nodded.

They crept along staying undetected, but it was taking them a long time to make it to the weapons room. They had seen horrible things being done to people they knew. One intruder, after killing his victim, began chopping the arms and legs with an axe, leaving the dead body in pieces. It all seemed so senseless. Aaron froze as he watched. He knew the man being dissected. He didn't know him real well, but he remembered talking with him briefly at one of Deanna's parties. What was his name? Aaron couldn't remember, but the guy was a soft spoken, wouldn't hurt a fly type of man. That only got you so far in the world now.

"Aaron," Tara whispered, drawing him from his thoughts. "It's too late for him."

"He was never going to make it," Aaron said, still in somewhat of a trance. "He wasn't cut out for this life."

"Hey, you ok?" Tara said with slight worry.

"We're vulnerable without those guns," Aaron told her. "Come on."

They were getting close. Only a few more houses to get past and they'd be there. Perhaps they were getting a little careless the closer they got, because they ran out from between two houses without checking first, and suddenly there was a hooded and cloaked figure with a bloody W on their forehead standing before them. Aaron instinctively took a step forward so that Tara was behind him. He locked eyes with the intruder. A hand reached up and pulled a bandana away, revealing the person behind the mask.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me," Aaron said with relief.

"Carol? Why are you dressed like that?" Tara questioned.

"No time," she rushed to say. She reached into a bag and pulled out two hand guns. Carol handed one to each of them.

"Where's Carl? Where's the baby?" Aaron wondered with panic.

"Carl's at the house. He's got a shotgun. I told him to stay and protect Judith," Carol answered. She glanced around like a crazed woman. "I gotta go. Now listen, these people don't have any guns, but if they find our supply, they'll be armed. Take out these sons of bitches."

"Where are you going?" Aaron asked.

"I'm looking for Maggie and Rosita. You haven't seen them have you?" Carol said.

"Not Rosita, but I saw Maggie earlier. She was with Deanna. They were going outside to look for a spot to plant vegetables."

"Shit. Well, hopefully they're ok. Listen, I need you two to keep watch around the weapons room. You see any of these assholes going towards it, shoot them. All of our shotguns, ammo and everything but this bag of handguns is in there, and we don't need these guys getting a hold of them," Carol ordered.

"We got it," Aaron assured her.

Aaron and Tara took up their positions across the street from the weapons storage room. They shot a couple people as they ran by, only killing the ones that looked like they were going to break in. Aaron was worried for Eric and the others at the infirmary. They were there by themselves with no protection except for a locked door. He felt an overwhelming need to go back and keep watch while they worked on saving Holly, but he knew he was needed more here. These people weren't armed with guns, but if they got a hold of Alexandria's weapons, the whole town would be in trouble. Still, he knew for a fact that a lot of good innocent people were dying right now. They weren't armed. They'd been living as though nothing was wrong. They were highly unprepared for such an attack. Aaron fell into that category too. He never thought anyone could get into the town. The walls were high. Daryl had pointed out that they were secure enough. So had Rick. With the support beams on the outside, it was easy to scale the walls. That must be how these people got in. But how did they find Alexandria? The marked walkers and the trees carved with their signature were a couple hours from here. It seemed that these people arrived on foot. They'd not heard engines pull up outside.

They didn't know how long it had been, but the gunshots finally stopped. Tara looked at Aaron. "Do you think it's over?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen anyone in a bit. I say we loop around, sweep the area. You go that way. I'll go this way, and we'll meet back here," Aaron said.

"Ok. Be careful," she warned as she took off to the right.

Aaron went left, gun raised as he carefully maneuvered the street. It seemed quiet now. Most of the intruders must have either been shot or fled. Aaron walked down the sidewalk, alert as he passed each house. He was about to pass one when the door slowly opened. Aaron froze and trained his gun on the door. Two men came out, saw Aaron and ignored the gun pointed at them. The first man jumped the railing, as though he was going to land on Aaron. Apparently, he didn't think Aaron would actually shoot, but he did, and the intruder landed on the pavement, unmoving. The second man realized that Aaron wasn't playing games, and as he started to run away, Aaron shot him in the back of the head. Aaron took a moment to collect himself, and then he looked up at the house. He knew who lived here. It was a young couple with two small children. Bile began to collect in his stomach to think what might have happened inside. The Allen's had only lived here for about a year. Aaron had brought them to Alexandria. They were living in a van in the woods after their camp was overrun by roamers. The Allen family managed to escape, and it wasn't but a couple weeks after that when Aaron and Eric came upon them. Aaron didn't think twice, and took the family back to Alexandria.

Aaron ascended the steps that led to the front door. He swallowed hard and went inside. His mind conjured up ideas of what he might find, but his heart wasn't prepared for it. The children, a boy and a girl only five and seven years old, if he came across them … Aaron couldn't think about it.

So far, the kitchen was deserted, as was the living room. There were signs that the family had just been here. He smelled something burning on the stove, and went to check. Aaron found a skillet with what used to be scrambled eggs, now dried out and brown, burnt as it smoked in the pan. Aaron pushed the skillet to the back and turned the stove off. Some of the drawers were left open, probably from the intruders looking for weapons. The butcher's block was empty, except for the knife sharpener and a pair of kitchen scissors. The knives were missing. Aaron prayed that he wouldn't find them, at least not how he feared he would, thrust into the bodies of the Allen family. He had to keep going.

Aaron progressed through the house slowly, always ready with his gun. Then he went upstairs and began searching room by room. The children's rooms were empty, and so was the parents' room. He heard a noise come from the bathroom in the hall. The door was closed, and when he tried it, he found it locked. A gasp came from inside, and hope returned.

"Hey, it's me, Aaron," he said in a calm voice. "You can come out."

The door slowly opened, and Mr. Allen poked his head out. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Aaron nodded. "I took care of the guys in your house."

Mr. Allen opened the door to reveal his wife and children sitting in the bathtub huddled together, pure fear written on their faces. Mr. Allen explained. "My wife was making breakfast for the children when someone knocked on the door. I thought it was odd. We normally don't have visitors, and never at that time in the morning. I looked through the side window and saw two men I didn't recognize. They had blood on their foreheads. Looked like a W, but it could have just been a smudge. Anyways, it didn't add up. I rushed my family upstairs and we locked ourselves in. I thought for sure those guys would come looking for us. We could hear them ransacking the place. I smelled my wife's eggs burning and thought they'd be upstairs any minute. They had to have known someone was home. Then we heard gunshots and a horn blowing outside. The men downstairs were concerned about that. I heard one of them say to forget about it, grab whatever they could find, and head for the gate. I think the noise and commotion spooked them."

"We've been attacked by a group of unknowns," Aaron told them. "Carol is out arming some of our people, me included. I saw the men you're talking about." He glanced at Mrs. Allen and the children. Then he leaned towards the husband and said softly. "They won't give you any more trouble, but I suggest you don't leave your house just yet. And don't allow the children to look out front."

"Is there anything I can do?" Mr. Allen asked.

"Just stay here and watch over your family," Aaron told him. "I need to get back out there. Keep your door locked just in case."

Mr. Allen nodded and thanked Aaron before he left. Aaron kept on his path until he met up with Tara again. "What did you find?" Aaron asked.

"Couple more of these guys, but I took care of them," she answered.

"Yeah, me too," Aaron said. "We need to check on everyone, don't you think?"

"I'm worried about Denise and the others," Tara said.

"Let's head back to the infirmary."

As they went along back the way they came. Tara stopped and pointed to someone. "Isn't that Morgan? I thought he was out with the rest of the group doing the practice run today."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too." Aaron was suddenly concerned about the group. "You don't think these guys crossed paths with Rick and the rest, do you?"

"I don't know," Tara said, but she was definitely concerned too.

* * *

What was supposed to be a practice run turned into the real deal. As Rick and the rest began their day at the quarry, the ground finally gave way and a semi-truck tumbled into the enormous pit. Walkers began spilling out of the other side, but that was the wrong direction. The plan had been to move the trucks on the near side and begin the trek. Everything changed in an instant, and Rick was yelling out orders, organizing all the people to their positions. The Alexandrians weren't ready and they were hesitant. Rick made them understand that they were now following out the plan. There'd be no practice. It was go time.

Luckily, Daryl had already made the necessary alterations to his bike so it would be extremely loud. He jumped on and revved the engine to gain the walker herd's attention. Sasha and Abraham were in their car, following Daryl. The parade was underway.

"This has to go down without a hitch," Sasha said on the radio to Daryl.

"We know the route. We just stay out ahead of them, keep their attention. Piece of cake," Daryl said.

"I'm glad you're so confident. Just remember. Don't be the hero," Sasha commented.

"I don't want to be a hero," Daryl said to himself. He'd already put the hand radio in his pocket. "I just want to make it back to Aaron safe. I promised I would." He thought about Alexandria, and everyone there right now thinking their loved ones were only practicing the move. Unfortunately, they couldn't afford to send anyone back to town and let them know the change in plans. They wouldn't be on alert if something bad happened. Shit, Rick was supposed to convince Deanna to arm the residents while the other half of Alexandria was out maneuvering a massive walker herd. The guns were all locked away in the weapons room. Daryl glanced over his shoulder, as he frequently did. The herd was still back there. He blasted the engine a few times just to make sure they heard it, and put his worry to the side. There was no time for mistakes. This whole thing was like leading a great white shark with a minnow dangling right in front of its face. As long as the minnow was the only thing interesting, it would work. The slightest distraction and . . .

He couldn't think about that right now. He had to reassure himself that Aaron was intelligent and quick thinking. Anything went south, Aaron could take care of himself.

They made it through the first few miles without any problems. The cars that Abraham and his construction crew lined up along the road worked beautifully to keep the herd in line. Now they were on a long stretch of road with forest on either side, but the walkers kept following him, as though he was the Pied Piper. He laughed to himself at the thought of it. Guess there really was something to those faerie tales after all. The dude with the flute knew what he was doing, and so did Daryl, except his flute was a motorcycle, and his rats were walkers. Much more dangerous.

Daryl kept in contact with Sasha and Abraham. He also talked with Rick. Rick was just up ahead with Michonne and Morgan. They were stationed at the most critical point, the turn where they built the wall. Eugene referred to it as being like a bumper in a pinball game. The walkers would hit it and turn in the right direction. Just to make sure, though, Rick, Michonne and Morgan fired flare guns. They fired shots into the sky in the direction they wanted the herd to go. This distracted most, and they went towards the light, just like the little girl Carol Anne from that movie. They made it through a crucial point. All was going as planned. Now just to get them as far from Alexandria as possible.

After a while, Daryl heard Rick say something about Carter on the radio. Stupid son of a bitch got himself bit. "I suppose that was bound to happen," Daryl thought to himself. Carter was the defiant one, the one who challenged Rick, the one who tried to take him out behind his back, and the one who finally realized what kind of shit the world had turned into. Too little, too late.

Glenn came on the radio. Said he made it to that building with the walkers trapped inside. It was right along the route, and if the herd became distracted by the noise, they'd get off course. He'd taken Nicolas and Heath with him. That part of the plan seemed to be under control. So, they were down one man already, but everything was going along as smoothly as it could. All Daryl had to do was keep leading the herd. Hopefully they'd be home by nightfall.

The radio fired up again after a while, and Rick was in a panic. He said there was a horn blowing in the direction of Alexandria, and half the herd was breaking off to follow the sound. "What?" Daryl shouted into the radio. He looked behind him, but he couldn't see anything. Then he radioed Sasha and Abraham. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Yeah, but what do you think it is?" Sasha asked. "You think it's Alexandria?"

"I don't know. I hope not," Daryl said. Then he went back to Rick. "You gonna go check it out?"

"We gotta do something, but you need to stay with the plan," Rick said. "We start branching off and doing things different, we're all going to be in trouble. Just stay in front of the herd."

Daryl didn't like not knowing what was going on. Rick probably didn't know either. He was playing it as it happened, making it up as he went along. "Half the herd," Daryl said to himself. "Shit." He got back on the radio. "I can go back, check it out. Sasha and Abe can keep leading with the car."

"No," Rick said quickly. "You keep doing what you're doing."

Daryl didn't want to. He wanted to get back to Alexandria or at least find out where the horn was coming from. What if the town was in trouble? What if it was Aaron or Carol signaling? Every fiber in his being told him to go back. If it was Aaron and he needed help . . .

"Whatcha doing, Daryl?" Sasha said over the radio. "You're slowing down a little too much. Don't want these things to catch up to us."

"You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking," Abraham said. "We got our orders."

"Yeah, I know," Daryl said reluctantly. He revved his engine again and kept going as planned.

An eternity passed before they heard from Rick again, and when they did it wasn't good news.

"We've had some casualties," Rick said on the radio. "Trying to stay out in front of the herd. Lost another man. Scott and Annie are hurt. David … David's been bit. Sturgess ran away."

"What the fuck happened back there?" Daryl said, frustrated.

Rick ignored him. "Morgan's on his way back to town to warn the others. Glenn and Michonne are leading the rest, but they're moving slower because of the injured. I'm going back to the turn, get the RV and lead the herd away from Alexandria. I just got to get out in front of them."

"You doing that by yourself?" Daryl asked. It seemed like a bad idea. "Why didn't you take Glenn or Michonne?"

"They're the strongest. They gotta get the others home. I got this, Daryl. You just stay with the herd, you hear me?" The radio went silent a moment, and then Rick came back on. "I know you're worried, but you shouldn't be. Aaron's strong and smart. Why do you think I picked him to stay behind? I knew that if something like this happened, Aaron would be one of our best lines of defense. Carol too. They know what to do. They'll make sure the walls will still be standing when we get home."

"Alright, man. Be careful," Daryl said. This time the radio went silent for an age.

* * *

"Daryl," the radio sparked with static. "Daryl, you copy?"

Daryl grabbed his set and spoke into it quickly. "Rick, what's going on? Where you at, brother?"

"I made it to the RV," Rick said, but he sounded extremely winded. "Haven't heard from anyone in a while. Last I talked to Glenn, they were holed up in some town. Glenn and Nicolas split off from the rest. Said they're going to make a distraction by burning a building so Michonne and the others could get away. I'm getting ready to–"

Rick stopped talking, and Daryl could hear faint gun shots over the radio before Rick took his finger off the button. "Rick! Rick, what's that? Is it Glenn? Michonne?"

"No. It's … it's coming from home."

Everyone's radios went dead for a few moments. Daryl's urge to fly back to Alexandria was stronger than ever. This whole time he had been going back and forth in his head. His incessant worry for Aaron was getting the best of him. And now there were gunshots. There was no way to communicate with home.

"Want me to go?" Daryl asked, although he didn't feel he needed permission. "I can go right now, take the next turn and double back. Sasha and Abraham–"

"You can't leave the herd," Rick said determinedly.

"I'm not liking that answer," Daryl commented. "Those are our people back there. We left them with minimal protection."

"Well, it can't be the herd that broke off. They haven't made it that far yet. It could be that they're taking out a few at the walls."

"I heard the shots through your radio, man. That was a lot more than just a few sniper hits." Daryl's ire was on the rise. "You don't know that all the walkers are heading your way. Some could have broken off, went another way. For all we fucking know, Alison and her people raided the weapon locker, and while we're out here, they saw this as their chance to take over."

"You are not leaving your position," Rick demanded. "Now, I know we're all worried. You're right, Daryl. Those are our people back there, our loved ones, and it's our first instinct to run to them and help, to make sure they're ok, but if we abandon our current plan, there won't be a place to call home anymore. If you leave, you're only doing it for yourself, but if you stay, you're doing it for them, and that's the whole reason we're out here right now, isn't it?"

Radios went quiet again while Daryl thought about what Rick said. He was right, but Daryl was still trying to convince himself of that when Sasha came on. "We can't do this without you, Daryl. It's you they're following. I'm afraid this car alone won't keep their attention."

They all waited to see what Daryl would do. No response came across the radio. Rick knew Daryl was still in position. It was his last opportunity to convince Daryl he was doing the right thing. "If I trust Aaron to protect my family, then you have to trust that he can take care of himself as well as home."

"Alright," Daryl said, barely audible.

"Ok then. Now, I'm gonna sit here a few more minutes, and when I see the herd, I'll lead them off with the RV. You all just keep doing what you're doing," Rick told them.

* * *

Daryl rode along for a while, leading the herd with Sasha and Abraham behind him. Sasha spoke to him a few times, trying to get a feel for his mood, but Daryl was good at covering his emotions. He might have looked like he was concentrating on the job at hand, but his mind was on Alexandria and Aaron. He knew Aaron was capable of taking care of himself. Daryl remembered some of the stories he shared about his life before the apocalypse and working for a NGO in the Niger River Delta. He'd come face to face with numerous bad people who shoved their guns in his face. He never backed down, saying that the worst thing someone could do in those situations was to show fear. Aaron was good at talking himself out of a tight spot. Daryl had witnessed that for himself a long time ago when they were captured by that group of crazies, back when they first found Caleb. But Daryl couldn't be sure that Aaron was up against someone that he could have a discussion with. If it was Alison, she undoubtedly wouldn't listen to a word Aaron had to say. If it was walkers, Daryl would actually feel better. Not knowing what was happening was killing him.

He looked around, trying to get a better idea of exactly where he was. He'd studied the map Rick had, the routes, the roads. He wasn't that far from the town, and he knew there was a turnoff coming up that would take him back towards Alexandria. He needed to decide right now whether or not to listen to Rick or turn back. Daryl slowed his bike until he fell back beside the car.

"Whatcha doing?" Sasha asked.

"I'm thinking I need to go home, see if they need my help," Daryl admitted.

"That wouldn't be wise," Abraham said like an army sergeant. Daryl was half expecting Abe to call him soldier.

"We need you, Daryl," Sasha said to convince him. "Without you, I don't know if this is going to work. You heard Rick. We need to stay on course. Listen, I know you want to get back. I know you're concerned for Aaron, but what we're doing right now is for him and all of Alexandria."

Daryl looked forward, deep in thought, but he was tired of thinking. He needed to take action. He heard what Sasha had to say and he nodded. "I have faith in you guys. You know what you're doing." Daryl revved his engine one more time. He could see the fork in the road up ahead. "You got this. See you back home."

"Daryl!" Sasha shouted, but she couldn't be heard over the sound of his bike's engine. Daryl opened her up and took off. Abraham and Sasha watched helplessly as he turned off the road. Sasha slammed her fist on the steering wheel. "Dammit!"

Abraham let her seethe a moment before he said anything. "Man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, but I don't know whether to call him a hero or a fool."

"That depends on whether or not he's alive when we get back," Sasha said with quiet anger.

* * *

Daryl sped down the road as fast as he could go, but it wasn't fast enough. He kept thinking of the gun shots he heard on Rick's end. There was no telling what was happening. He prepared himself for any situation, at least he hoped he could. He prayed that those shots came from someone in his group, and not Alison's. Maybe Rick was right and that was just someone in the watchtower clearing walkers from the walls.

He could barely hear his radio sputter static, and he pulled his out of his pocket just in time to hear Rick's voice. "Daryl, you there? You copy?"

"I'm here. What's going on?" Daryl answered.

"Still here. Herd should be here soon. How's it going on your end?"

Daryl looked around at the fast passing scenery. "Going ok," he said, not revealing his abandonment.

"I've been trying to get a hold of Glenn, but there's been no answer. Should have seen smoke by now, but the sky is clear."

"You know how it is," Daryl said. "Shit never goes as easily as your plans."

"Don't I know it," Rick mumbled.

"Everything alright?" Daryl asked, getting the feeling that something had happened.

"Yeah, I just … I cut my hand pretty good. I'll be ok. I just need to–"

Rick's words were cut off by the sound of a gun firing, and it sounded real close. "Rick!" Daryl yelled into the walkie talkie several times, but he never received an answer. "Rick, you there? What happened?" There was nothing.

Daryl brought his bike to a stop, and tried to reach Rick a few more times with no luck. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Those shots were right there, inside the RV. What should he do? Daryl couldn't get back to Rick. He couldn't go back the way he came because of the herd. He tried the radio again, calling for Rick, Glenn, Michonne, anyone, but there was only silence. Daryl looked up at the sky. He could see pretty far around him, but there was nothing but blue sky, no smoke, no flares, nothing. It was as though everyone dropped off the face of the earth. He should keep heading back to town, he thought. He should just go back. Maybe he could at least help there.

Help, Daryl thought, and Rick's words came back to him. Go back to Alexandria and he was only helping himself. Stay with the plan and he was helping everyone else. "Dammit," he complained. Glenn was missing. Michonne was MIA too. Rick was under attack or … or worse, but he didn't want to think about that. Daryl might be all that was left. Sasha and Abraham too. They had the bulk of the herd. They were all that was keeping the walkers from wandering towards Alexandria. Rick, Glenn, Michonne … if they were dead, they died protecting everyone back home. Daryl could go home. Maybe he could help out there, or maybe there was nothing left to protect. But if he abandoned his job, he might be helping to destroy everything and everyone.

Daryl started the engine, turned around and headed back the way he came. If he hurried, he'd make it back before Sasha and Abe passed the fork in the road. It was a difficult decision he was making, but his gut said it was the right one, and he usually followed his gut. "You better be alright, Aaron," Daryl said to himself. "Stay strong, keep it together, fight like a motherfucker, and I'll be home soon."

Just as he figured, Daryl reached the intersection just as the car was rolling past. The herd was still in place following behind. He fell in next to the car, but kept his eyes straight ahead.

"You're back," Sasha said.

"Yep," Daryl said tersely. There was no point telling them about Rick and the gun shots or Glenn. "Let's do this," he said, and he sped up out in front of the car, revved his engine to spark new interest in the herd, kept his eyes to the front, and buried his feelings of worry and doubt about Aaron.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

The chaos was over and the streets of Alexandria were littered with the bodies of both Wolves and residents. Aaron, Tara, Carol, and a few others were combing the neighborhood for those who had returned. It was still dangerous, as some of the newly turned roamers were up and walking around looking for their next meal. Everyone split up and took a different area to cover. Aaron took the street his house was on, seeing some of his neighbors among the dead. A couple of them had returned, though they weren't walking. The Wolves had seen to that, severing their arms and legs from their torsos, leaving the rest of the body to reanimate. Aaron knifed them in the head, and then stood back to look at the carnage. Why, he wondered? Why would they do this? It made no sense. If the intruders wanted Alexandria or its weapons and supplies, why go to the trouble to dissect their victims in such a morbid way?

In all the craziness, Aaron hadn't had much time to think of anyone or anything, except Daryl, hoping he was alright. It suddenly dawned on him that he'd left Eric back at the infirmary with Denise and Eugene where they were trying to save Holly's life. Who else hadn't he considered in all of this? And then it hit him. "Caleb," he said aloud.

Just before the trouble started, Aaron was at Rick's house with Carol. Carl was there with Judith, but Caleb wasn't around at the time. Caleb lived with Rick and the others. Where had he been in all of this? Where would he have gone? If anything happened to the boy, he'd never forgive himself. Aaron passed a couple of dazed people and asked if they'd seen Caleb. No one had, or at least they didn't remember seeing him. Aaron picked up the pace of his tread as he searched the streets, always worried that the next body he'd find would be Caleb's. Eventually, he made his way to Rick's house. The door was open. He let himself in.

"Carl!" Aaron shouted, thinking he was still upstairs.

"I'm right here," Carl said in a calm voice. He was in the kitchen removing a pair of oven mitts from his hands. Carol's casserole sat on the counter, steaming hot and fresh from the oven. "The timer just went off."

"Where's Judith?" Aaron asked with extreme concern.

"She's still sleeping upstairs," Carl informed him.

It was almost too comical, Aaron thought. The casserole was done and the baby was still asleep. He'd watched Carol set the timer, but he didn't think twice about it. Now he realized that all of this, the invasion, the slaughtering, happened in just forty five minutes. It felt like a whole day had passed.

"Have you seen Caleb?" Aaron asked.

"No," Carl said, suddenly looking concerned himself. "Enid was here, but she left. Ron was here too. I stopped one of those Wolf guys from killing him, and tried to get him to come in house until it was over. He wouldn't though. But I haven't seen Caleb since he left the house this morning."

"Do you know where he went?" Aaron asked.

Carl shook his head. "Didn't say."

"I'm going back out to look for him. Stay here in case he comes back. Tell him I'm looking for him if he does, and to stay put. I'll come back if I don't find him to check," Aaron said.

"Ok," Carl agreed.

Aaron left the house, and was surprised to find Carol sitting on the steps. She was still dressed in the clothing of the Wolf she killed. Dried blood in the shape of a W marked her forehead. Carol was really smart, Aaron said to himself. That was fast thinking to disguise herself as one of the intruders in order to get around town easier.

He stepped down a couple steps and took a seat next to her. She held a pack of menthol cigarettes in her hand, turning them over and over unconsciously. Carol was gazing emptily across the road. Aaron followed her line of sight, and his breath hitched by what he saw. Somehow, he hadn't noticed when he first arrived at the house. "Is that–"

"Mrs. Neudermyer," Carol finished for him.

"Shit," Aaron said with true regret.

"I told her she was going to die," Carol said in a weak voice. "I told her these cigarettes would kill her." She waved the pack in front of her.

"I'm … I'm not sure I follow," Aaron said, confused.

"This morning," Carol continued. "I ratted her out for smoking. Not only that, but I scolded her for smoking in her house. Told her if she was going to continue with her nasty habit, the least she could do was to smoke outside." Carol huffed a breath, rolled her eyes to the sky and shook her head. "She was just pissing me off this morning, going on about my cooking and using boxed pasta. She was so clueless, so fucking stupid, living in a dream world. All the things I've seen, all the shit I've done, the really bad shit … I've been doing everything and anything to keep myself alive, and she's been here since the beginning … protected and seemingly unscathed by it all. I guess I got jealous. I wished I could trade places with her. I wished I was the clueless one. And then, like a silly school girl, I told everyone her secret. Mrs. Neudermyer, the health conscious nut job, smoked when she thought no one was looking. It felt good to expose her for a hypocrite. I took joy in watching her squirm."

"Hey, you couldn't have known that any of this would happen today. It's not your fault. Mrs. Neudermyer was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Aaron said to comfort Carol.

Tears threatened to fall as Carol looked at the lifeless body across the street. "I saw her get attacked. She was outside in her yard … smoking." Carol slowly turned her head to look at Aaron. "And it was because of what I said to her. I can't help but think that if I'd never said those things, she would have been in her house smoking a cigarette, safe from those Wolf people. But no. The bitch had to go and actually take my advice, and now she's dead." Carol wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, smearing dirt across her cheek. "I didn't even like her that much, but she didn't deserve to die, not like that."

"A lot of people died today, and none of them deserved it, but a lot of them survived because of you. Don't forget that, Carol," Aaron reminded her. He put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. "Why don't you go inside? There's enough of us to start cleaning this up."

Carol looked at him like he didn't know what he was talking about, and then something dawned on her. "There's no time to rest. We have to . . . You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Morgan came back … alone," she told him.

"I thought I saw him. Why? What's happened?" Aaron said with concern.

"The walkers in the quarry, they got out. Morgan said part of the ground caved in and opened up a way for them to get out. They're leading the herd as we speak. But the truck … when it crashed into the tower … the horn, it drew half the herd away. They're coming this way," Carol informed him.

"What? But–"

"Michonne and Glenn are leading the rest back home. Rick went off on his own to try and distract the herd. That's all he knew."

"What about Daryl? What about Sasha and Abraham?" Aaron wondered.

"They're following the plan, which means–"

"They're out there with thousands of roamers behind them," Aaron finished in a daze. "I should have gone. I should be out there with him."

"You're not out there and neither am I. We're in here, and just like Rick and Daryl have stuck with the plan, so should we," Carol told him. "We need to get ready for this."

Aaron nodded, knowing Carol was right. If half the herd broke off and was heading towards Alexandria, they needed to be prepared. "Alright. I need to find Caleb first, and then . . ."

"We have to secure this place first, make sure the dead are dead, get the bodies off the streets. People don't need to see this right now, and they don't need to know what's happened. Michonne and Glenn are on their way back. We'll wait for them before we announce to everyone else what's going on. Agreed?"

Again, Aaron nodded. "Yeah, but I'm finding Caleb."

"Ok," Carol agreed.

* * *

Aaron held his knife in his hand as he walked along the streets. He came upon a few reanimated people and took them out quickly. He noticed that some people were already moving the bodies. The clean up was already underway. That was good. People cared about their home. They cared about what happened to the victims too. Humanity still existed in Alexandria, and that's what Aaron wanted to hang on to.

As he went along, keeping an eye out for Caleb, he suddenly noticed a few dead bodies on the ground. Some were noticeably Wolves with W's on their heads. But there was another body covered by them, and Aaron stopped in his tracks when he recognized a blue jacket. It was undoubtedly Caleb's jacket, the one he had been wearing when they found him.

"Jesus, no," Aaron said desperately under his breath. He pulled the bodies off, rolling them over and checking for signs of movement. The one in the jacket was definitely moving, but he was on his stomach, trapped by the dead Wolves. Aaron's heart was pounding in his chest. He feared the worst, and prepared to do the unthinkable. As he rolled the last body over, relief washed over him. It wasn't Caleb, but one of the Wolves wearing his jacket. This was good, but Caleb was still missing, and now Aaron feared anew for the boy.

Aaron took out his knife, and got down on one knee. As he slid the blade into the skull, he noticed blood on the front of Caleb's jacket. "I hope that's not–" he started to say when something else captured his attention. There was a strap beneath one of the other bodies, sticking out to the side, a familiar strap. Aaron pushed the Wolf body over, and gasped. There was a brown backpack that looked a lot like the one he'd lost a while back. There was only one way to be sure. Aaron took the pack and stepped away from the bodies. He observed the bag, and memories that had been full of holes were now flooding back complete. "This is my bag," he said, shocked. Aaron looked behind him, and sat down on the bottom step of a set of stairs. He slowly unzipped the pack, revealing many things he'd forgotten about. There was a flare gun, a compass, a couple jars of food, a few other odds and ends, and pictures. Aaron's heart cringed as he took the pictures out of the bag and sifted through them. They were of the town, pictures of the inside and outside of the walls, the solar panels, the generators, and some of the houses.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself. He looked up and around the area. The bodies, the destruction, the broken hearts, it was all his fault. Aaron looked back at the pictures in his hand. "They knew exactly how to get in. This happened because of me."

"Aaron?"

Aaron forced himself to look up at whoever called to him. Eric was standing next to him, watching him, but Aaron bent his head down over the pictures.

"Aaron," Eric said again, sorrow in his voice. "I was so worried. I–" He cut his words short, and shook his head. "Holly … she … she didn't make it."

Aaron let the photos slip from his fingers as he pulled his knees into his chest and rocked back and forth.

"Aaron, what is it?" Eric asked with true concern. When Aaron didn't answer, Eric crouched down next to him, and saw the pictures laying askew on the sidewalk.

Aaron lifted his head, eyes red with tears that threatened to roll down his blood-stained face. "It was me," he croaked. "They're all dead because of me."

Eric seemed confused. "I don't understand."

"The bag. I lost it. The cannery … the walkers … I dropped it, I guess. These people … these wicked, evil people, they must have found it and–" Aaron glanced at the pictures that Eric was now holding.

Eric knew exactly what was in the bag, and he knew the pictures well, from when they were still together and doing recruiting runs. Aaron had taken them, and Eric had developed them. It had been Aaron's idea to have pictures of Alexandria as a way of convincing people that their town actually existed. "Aaron, it's because of these that we saved so many and gave them a place to call home."

"It's because of me that a lot of those same people are now lying dead in the streets. This is all my fault. If I didn't have those in my bag, the Wolves wouldn't have been able to get in so easily. Don't you see? I basically gave them the blueprints to the city. That's how they were able to sneak in undetected. And now Holly is … and Mrs. Neudermyer, and … and … Fuck! Caleb is probably–"

"Caleb is fine," Eric said quickly, although to hear about the pasta lady was a shock. He ignored it though.

"He is?" Aaron asked, looking over to Eric. "Are you sure?"

"He managed to make his way to Olivia's house. They were both hiding out there. He's ok, Aaron."

"Thank God," Aaron said with minimal relief.

"Why don't we get you home," Eric told him. He helped Aaron to stand, shoved the pictures back into the bag, and flung it over his shoulder. "You should get cleaned up," Eric said.

"But there's so much work that–"

"It's being handled," Eric interrupted.

As they were walking back to Aaron's house, they paused when they saw Michonne and Heath helping an injured Scott. "They're back," Aaron said excitedly. "I need to go. I need to see if Daryl's back."

"I don't see him," Eric said, hoping Aaron would just go home and rest.

Aaron pulled away from Eric and marched off towards Michonne and the others. He saw right away the blood seeping through Scott's pant leg. He looked at Michonne with questioning eyes.

"Gunshot wound," Michonne said in answer to Aaron's expression. "We're going to the infirmary. What the hell happened here?"

Aaron looked around, still in a bit of a daze. He felt like he needed to tell her everything, especially the truth behind the reason for the invasion, but his words failed him at the moment. Eric came up next to him and took over. "Some people got in. They call themselves Wolves. I still don't understand what they wanted. They were just … killing people. They weren't even stealing supplies. They were just hacking and slashing, cutting and stabbing. It was awful."

"Daryl … Is he back?" Aaron asked with desperation.

Michonne slowly shook her head. "Far as I know, he's still leading the herd with Sasha and Abraham. We lost radio contact a while back. Glenn and Nickolas, are they here?"

"No," Aaron answered. "I saw Morgan, but that's it."

Michonne looked around her with wide watchful eyes. "Those people, are they still here?"

"Only if they're dead." Eric grasped Aaron's shoulder. "Thanks to Aaron, Carol, and some of the others–"

"Not me," Aaron muttered, and Michonne looked at him oddly.

Before she could asked anything, Eric spoke up. "You better get him to Denise," he said, looking at Scott's leg.

Michonne nodded, but she kept her eye on Aaron, and put her hand on his arm. "I'm sure Daryl's ok. We've got a bigger problem though. Part of the herd broke off and was headed this way. There was a … a horn or something."

"That must have been the truck. They crashed it into the watchtower. The walls held though," Eric answered.

"Well, the noise distracted a portion of the herd. We were leading everyone home and got stuck in some town. Rick's still out there trying to lead them away from Alexandria with the RV, but I haven't heard from him either."

While they were talking, Maggie ran up to them and started interrogating Michonne, mostly about Glenn, but Michonne didn't have much to add from what she already told Aaron and Eric. "He was supposed to start a fire, but we never saw any smoke. I'm sorry, Maggie, but I just don't know what happened."

Maggie looked distraught, but she kept a brave front. "He'll send a signal when he can. He knows to do that."

"Maybe he's not far behind," Michonne said to try and calm her.

"I'm gonna keep watch for him," Maggie said, and she went off to what they referred to as the crow's nest. It was just a platform at the top of the wall where they could look out at the surrounding area.

Aaron had a strong urge to follow her. He wanted to keep watch for Daryl, too, but he didn't think Eric would let him. Eric insisted that Aaron go home for now, and let the others worry about things for a bit. Aaron wasn't in much of a fighting mood, or he might have told Eric to shove it. Instead, he let Eric lead him home.

Once they got there, Eric made Aaron lie down on the couch while he fixed some them some tea. But Aaron didn't lay down. After a few minutes, he got up and went to the window. He watched as some of the townspeople walked towards the wall by the front gate. They were carrying paint brushes and buckets. He wondered what they could be doing.

Meanwhile, the streets were empty except for bloodstains. One woman was standing on the sidewalk talking to Michonne. Her name was Betsy, David's wife. Aaron's heart sunk. David was gone, Michonne had said. He was never going to make it. He'd been bit, but all he wanted to do was get back to Alexandria and say goodbye to his wife before he died. He didn't come home, and perished on his way back.

Aaron studied Betsy as Michonne spoke to her. At first she looked hopeful. Then, fear crossed her face. Finally, devastation settled in. It was as though her soul left her body and she was suddenly like one of the roamers. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed down. Betsy's hands came up and covered her face. Aaron could see by her body language that she was crying. And then he thought, "This could be me. Someone might show up any minute with news that Daryl died." In the world they now lived in, this was always a very strong possibility, and everyday Aaron was faced with the fact that either he or Daryl might not be alive at the end of the day. It became so commonplace that he thought he'd become immune, but now with real fear hanging over his head, he didn't think he could take hearing such horrible news. It's funny, but Aaron always wondered how Daryl would go on without him, not the other way around. Aaron thought that if death was inevitable for either of them, it would be more so for himself than Daryl. He'd never really given a lot of thought about having to survive without Daryl.

Aaron watched Betsy walk away by herself, going back to her house to mourn the loss of her husband. What would she do now? How would she go on? The two of them, David and Betsy, were very close and very much in love. Aaron remembered bringing them into Alexandria. He'd found them individually in two different situations during the same recruitment run, but they bonded quickly during the trip back to Alexandria and became inseparable. Of course, they weren't legally married, if there was such a thing anymore, but they asked Deanna's husband to perform a ceremony. David and Betsy were beyond thrilled to learn that a real pastor had come to town, and they were getting ready to have Father Gabriel bind them in matrimony and make it official. But Gabriel had been rather aloof since coming to Alexandria, as most people were when they were trying to adjust to the idea of having a normal life. He never had the chance to marry David and Betsy.

Aaron thought that he should go and talk with Betsy, console her during her time of sorrow. It was the least he could do after the devastation of everything that just happened, and discovering that he was responsible. The feeling of guilt came back full force as Aaron watched people try to pull their lives back together. So many were lost. So many hearts were shattered. Families were broken, and Aaron couldn't help but take the blame for it.

"Why don't you come sit down," Eric called. He stood by the couch with a cup of hot steaming tea in his hand.

Aaron started to walk over to the couch, but he stopped and glanced out the window again. He shook his head as he turned back to Eric. "I should be out there helping. I'm not injured. I'm not … mourning … not yet anyways." The last part was spoken no louder than a whisper.

"He'll be back," Eric comforted. He handed the cup to Aaron and they both sat on the couch.

Aaron looked into the cup, but he didn't drink. He had no appetite for anything at the moment. Instead, he shook his head. "I need to do something, Eric. None of this might have happened if I'd been more careful. I practically put out a welcome mat and invited these people in. They knew where our lookouts were stationed and scaled the walls at their most vulnerable points. What the hell was I thinking to carry around pictures of the town?"

"You have got to stop blaming yourself, Aaron. You didn't deliberately drop your bag. You were being chased. You were trapped. Saving your life was more important than some old canvas backpack," Eric said.

Aaron set the cup down and stood from the couch. He marched over to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket. Eric jumped up and followed him. "Where are you going?" he asked.

Aaron shook his head again. "I … I can't stay. I know you mean well, Eric, and I appreciate your support, but I have to go and see where I can be of help."

"But you–" Eric started to argue, but Aaron cut him off.

"I can't sit here sipping tea, sitting in my cozy house while people lay dead in the streets, and knowing it was something I did that brought that on. And Daryl is out there somewhere, putting his life on the line for all of us. I don't know whether he's alive or … or … Shit, I can't even bring myself to say it."

"You're just emotional right now," Eric said to calm him, reaching out to take his hands.

Aaron pulled away from Eric's touch. "No!" he demanded. "Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me again."

"What's wrong with you?" Eric asked.

Aaron's eyes were wild and full of confusion and rage. "I see what you're doing here. You wait until I'm vulnerable and then suddenly there you are to comfort me. What … do you think I'll just fall into your arms and have myself a good cry? You think you can just work your way back into my life and make everything better? Probably hoping Daryl doesn't come home, don't you?"

"It's not like that at all," Eric defended. "Listen, I know nothing will ever happen between us again, but I want you to know that I'm still here for you if you need me."

"I don't. I don't need you. All I need is to go out there and help. I need to know Daryl is ok. I need … I need–" Aaron stopped when he heard people shouting outside, and he opened the door.

"He's back," they heard people saying.

"Daryl?" Aaron wondered aloud. "Oh God, please let it be Daryl." He flew down the steps and ran towards the front gate, leaving Eric behind.

Eric hung his head and closed his eyes. "I guess that's it then. There's absolutely nothing left between us, not even friendship."

* * *

Aaron was at the gate in a flash, just in time to see Michonne and Maggie closing the gate. It wasn't Daryl that was back. It was Rick, and he looked a mess. There was blood everywhere, and he looked terrible. But that's not what Aaron was most concerned about. Right behind Rick, now crashing upon the gate like a tidal wave was the herd, or the part that wandered off from the main grouping. Rick barely made it back in time.

"What happened?" Michonne asked him.

"I couldn't get the RV started. And then … then I was attacked by these . . ." Rick's words trailed off when he noticed bodies piled up off in a grassy area. "What happened here?"

"We were attacked too," Michonne told him.

"Wolves," Maggie said.

"Let me guess. Guys with W's on their foreheads," Rick confirmed, and Maggie nodded. "Same son of a bitches attacked me. One of them had a gun, shot at me."

"Is that what happened to your hand?" Michonne asked. "Jesus, you're bleeding pretty good."

Rick lifted his hand and looked at it. "No, I cut it. I'm pretty sure it's gonna need stitches."

"Where's Glenn?" Maggie asked quietly.

"I was hoping he'd be back by now," Rick said. He looked at Michonne for an answer but she shook her head.

"I don't know. He was supposed to light up a building to distract the herd, but there's been no smoke, nothing," Michonne said.

"What about Daryl?" Aaron finally spoke up, moving closer to the others. "Has anyone heard from Daryl?"

Rick glanced at Aaron, but he couldn't look him in the eye. "We lost contact. Far as I know, he's still leading the walkers."

"W-Well, how … how long do you think–" Aaron stammered, but Rick cut him off.

"I don't know, Aaron, but if there had been a problem, I think there'd be a lot more out there," Rick said looking out at the herd surrounding them. "Give them some more time, and I'm sure they'll all be back by sundown."

"And if they're not?" Maggie spoke up.

"We'll figure something out," Rick answered. It was obvious that he needed a moment to breathe and get his thoughts in order.

Aaron watched as some people set up a ladder on part of the wall. One man climbed the ladder with a paint can and a brush while others watched him from the ground. Once he reached the top, the man started writing a name and then another and another. Aaron realized they were the names of the deceased. "Rick," he called out.

"Yeah?"

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

Rick moaned as he moved his hand. "Can it wait, Aaron? I need to get this looked at."

Aaron glanced at the wall again. "Yeah, ok," he answered solemnly. When he looked back, he couldn't help but notice the faraway look on Maggie's face. She was extremely worried, and Aaron knew exactly how she felt. "You doing alright?" he asked her.

"Gotta get back in the crow's nest," she said, never looking at Aaron, and she was off.

"What about you?" Michonne asked.

Aaron glanced at her and looked back towards the wall where two more names had been added. It meant something that they started at the top of the wall. The list would be long. "I'm fine," he said absently, and he walked away too.

* * *

He didn't want to go home, in case Eric was still there. Aaron couldn't deal with him right now. Some pretty harsh things were said, and he didn't want to think about it. Instead, Aaron walked around the streets, checking to make sure there weren't any roamers. He spoke to a few people to make sure they were alright. He helped comfort a few whose loved ones didn't make it. That was the worst of all this turmoil. Aaron felt solely responsible for their deaths, and he grieved for each and every victim.

After making his rounds, and wandering aimlessly, Aaron found himself back at the wall of names. The list was long enough that the painter had abandoned the ladder and was working from the ground. Off to the side, a group of people were gathered. Aaron saw Rick, Maggie, and Michonne amongst the others. Rick's hand was bandaged. It looked like he was going to be ok.

The man painting the names left his work to join the group. Aaron glanced at the wall. The last two names were Nicholas and Glenn. No, Aaron thought to himself. They still weren't sure of the fate of those two. Why write the names now? He looked to Maggie to see her reaction. Her face was stone cold as she stared at her husband's name. Why not add Sasha, Abraham and Daryl up there, he wondered. They hadn't been heard from. They hadn't made it home yet. Why have hope for them and not for Glenn and Nick? Aaron took a step towards Maggie, wanting to talk to her, but Rick spoke.

"I know everyone is worried about the walkers outside. The walls are holding up, but so must we. We got to come up with a plan to draw them away, but in the meantime, we need to do everything we can to make this place as uninteresting as possible. That means we need to keep very quiet. Walkers are drawn to sound and movement. I saw we keep our voices down, stay inside as much as possible, maybe even keep our lights off at night. If we can make this place seem like a graveyard–"

"It's already is a graveyard," interrupted a woman. She glanced towards a bloody stain in the road. She was referring to the invasion by the Wolves earlier in the morning. A couple other people started to protest to Rick's ideas of what to do next. People were giving up before they even tried. They weren't giving Rick a chance.

"I'm sorry things happened and our plans went askew," Rick started to say when another woman spoke up.

"Our plans? These were your plans," she accused. Aaron knew her to be one of the people who followed Alison. "You came up with this whole scheme, you and your people, and while you were out there, we were attacked. Maybe if we were allowed to keep some weapons we might have had a chance to save more people, but you disarmed us, and then alienated us."

Rick cocked his head and glared at her. Obviously, he knew whose side she followed. "Alison was responsible for that, and if you chose to follow her then that's on you."

"Alison is dead because of you. Where do you think those Wolf people came in at? They scaled the walls on our side of town. We were completely helpless. Only a few of us escaped. Maybe if we had weapons, we could have taken most of them out, and then the people on this side that died might still be alive," the woman said angrily.

"This is the problem," Rick countered. "There can't be you and us. There can't be division amongst us. We are all in here because we want to survive, and we want a chance, a real chance at making this place work. If we aren't willing to work together–"

"You've never been willing to work with us," she interrupted. "You never gave us a choice."

Rick took a few steps towards the woman so she could see the seriousness in his eyes. "You had a choice all along, and you chose Alison. Now, I'm sorry that she's dead. I really am. She was strong. She could have contributed in such a great way, but her choice was made out of selfishness. She was a danger to this community and to some of its residents."

Tensions were running high, and the sound of the massive herd on the other side of the wall wasn't helping to calm the situation. Fear and anxiety were taking over, and Aaron was afraid that Rick was about to be verbally attacked for his recent choices on how to keep Alexandria safe and standing. It wasn't his fault though. Rick made the right choices. Unable to keep quiet any longer, Aaron stepped into the center of the crowd and confessed.

"Everything that Rick has done has been for us, for all of us. He saw a threat, and he neutralized it. Same thing with the walkers in the quarry. And even though it broke open and those plans were put into motion prematurely, it was working. It's still working. Daryl, Sasha and Abraham are still leading half of them away from here. The half that's out there right now isn't there because of anything Rick did." Aaron paused to look around, but mostly to speak directly to Rick. "I remembered something recently because of something I found. A while back, Daryl and I were out on a run. We found a cannery that I thought might be full of food supplies. Daryl didn't want to stop, but I convinced him otherwise. It turned out to be a trap set by the very people who just broke in here. In the process of trying to get away, I must have dropped my backpack, and they found it. There was proof of Alexandria's existence in there. I had pictures of the town … the walls, the solar panels, the watchtower, houses. Those people found this place because of me." Aaron's voice was full of regret. Rick watched him, confused by this new information. "I'm sorry," Aaron said to Rick.

Aaron waited for Rick to say something, to rush him, to yell or berate him, anything. Someone called out Deanna's name, and everyone turned to see her walking away from the crowd gathered by the wall. Shoulders slumped, head down, she looked like she had given up on everything.

"We'll talk later," Rick told him. The people left. No one spoke to Aaron. He didn't know if that was good or bad. Silence was the real threat, he thought to himself. At least he had told them. Now they knew. Now they could stop blaming Rick. Maybe they would start listening to him.

As Michonne passed Aaron, she clapped a hand to his shoulder. It was only slightly comforting. It might have been better if she had said something, but she didn't speak a word. Aaron caught Maggie out of the corner of his eye. She was looking at the names on the wall again, studying Glenn's name more than the others. And then she just walked away, but with purpose in her stride. Aaron watched her a moment, and noticed that she was going towards the armory. Some instinct told him to follow her. He suddenly feared for her, or perhaps for a decision she was about to make. Aaron needed to know what she was going to do, so he followed her at a distance. Just as he thought, she went into the weapons room, now unguarded and open for just anyone to stroll into. He waited and pondered the decision whether to intervene or not. He didn't know Maggie as well as some of the others, even though she and Sasha were the first people Aaron encountered when he approached Rick's group before bringing them to Alexandria. Maggie had always been kind, though, and for this reason he thought it would be alright to talk to her and find out what she was up. But she was in the armory, and it wasn't difficult to figure out what that was.

Aaron slipped inside the door quietly and found Maggie filling a clip with bullets. She had a bag already open on the counter and he could see a flare gun, a couple revolvers, a box of ammo for a shotgun, and said shotgun laying on the counter next to the bag. Just as he thought, Maggie was going out to look for Glenn.

"Maggie," he said in a hushed tone.

"Go home, Aaron," she answered before he could say anything else.

"You can't do this."

"Like hell I can't," she said, continuing to fill the clip.

"I know you're worried about him, but you heard what Rick said. Glenn will be home before–"

She stopped what she was doing to look at Aaron. "You don't know that. Rick doesn't know that. Michonne said he was going to set a building on fire, which would have meant there would have been smoke. There's been nothing but clear skies all day. Something's wrong and I have to go. I just do. Glenn would do the same if it was me out there."

"How are you going to get out? Have you noticed that we're surrounded by roamer? We're trapped in here," Aaron pointed out.

"Which only means that Glenn can't get in. What if he's injured? What if he needs help?" Maggie shoved the filled clip into the gun then tossed it into the bag and started on another. "You don't have to worry. You know where Daryl is. He's leading the rest of the herd with Sasha and Abraham, otherwise there'd be a lot more walkers outside."

"You don't think I'm scared shitless about Daryl's whereabouts? This wasn't even supposed to happen today. This was only a dress rehearsal for tomorrow, but suddenly they're all in the thick of it. Do you know how many times I've looked at the gate, and tried to figure out a way around the roamers so that I can go find Daryl? Christ," he said plopping onto a stool. "Just yesterday, we were talking about what to have for dinner tonight. So … yes … I do have to worry, because I don't know what I'll do without him."

Maggie stopped what she was doing and turned to him. "Then you must understand why I have to go. You're not going to stop me. You're not going to convince me otherwise."

Aaron looked up and connected with her eyes. "No, I'm not … because I'm coming with you."

"Aaron," she started to protest, but he stopped her.

"I can't stay here another minute. I have to do something. I have to contribute in some way to make up for what I've done. Those names on the wall … If I have to read each and every one of those again, I … I just don't know if I can take it."

Maggie still looked hesitant to say yes, but just as Maggie wouldn't stay put, neither would Aaron. They both had loved ones out there, missing or having not been heard from all day. Instead of protesting anymore, mainly because time was of the essence, Maggie picked up a gun and handed it to Aaron. "Better get loading it, and grab a box of extra ammo. We've got to get through this herd somehow. Rick said they were probably fifteen, twenty bodies thick."

"I just remembered something," Aaron said. It was amazing how he was still rediscovering missing pieces of his memory after all this time. "There's another way out."

With their bag packed, weapons loaded, and their knives holstered at their sides, Aaron led Maggie towards the back side of town. This was where Alison and her group were staying. This was also, according to a couple of her people that survived the attack, where the Wolves gained entry. People had been busy burying bodies in a makeshift graveyard. There were still blood stains on sidewalks and in the grass. The scene was a bloody one, and it looked as though Alison's people took the brunt of the attack. Aaron didn't much like Alison, but she didn't deserve this. It was nothing short of a massacre, and he knew why.

"These people had no guns. We took them all away when we found them stashed in a closet in Alison's house. They had no way to defend themselves," he said regretfully.

"Alison was planning on attacking Rick and our group, and then throw Deanna out of power. She brought this on herself, Aaron, and don't forget it," Maggie reminded him, hoping he would stop taking the blame for everything.

"Over here," he said, and removed a steel manhole cover revealing a passage to the sewers.

Maggie looked down into the darkness. "You don't have to go. I can do this on my own."

"If I can't keep you from leaving, then you can't keep me from staying. We find Glenn together, and hopefully, by the time we get back, Daryl will be home. If not, looks like I'll be taking another trip outside again."

Maggie stopped before climbing into the sewer, and hugged Aaron. "You're a good man, Aaron. Please don't blame yourself anymore. It wasn't your fault, none of it."

Aaron held her to him and closed his eyes. "Thank you, Maggie," he whispered.

They navigated the sewer with flashlights. It was dark, damp and the air reeked. Roots grew through the cracks of the concrete. It was amazing how nature reclaimed things when no one was around to maintenance it.

"How do you know there this will come out at?" Maggie wondered.

"Caught some people trying to sneak in once. They used this sewer. Since then, it's been locked up tight, but I can get us out."

They went along, but ran into some trouble, and Maggie came close to getting bit when they came across the people Aaron was talking about. It looked like they tried to climb a ladder to get out of the sewer, but the ladder and part of the tunnel collapsed on them. Now they were walkers, the most horrid and disgusting Aaron had ever seen. Being in the dark, wet sewer had made them decay to the point that their skin hung from their bones, which were exposed. They were slimy and difficult to kill. When Maggie tried to move the ladder, it slipped and hit Aaron in the head. Blood ran down his face, practically blinding him in one eye. He fell into the nauseating water and couldn't get up because the ground beneath the water was slimy. Aaron couldn't get his footing. Two walkers attacked, and Maggie was having a difficult time. Aaron was finally able to stand, and he plunged his knife into the thing's head just in time. Once they caught their breath, Maggie noticed the blood.

"Aaron, you're hurt,' she said worriedly.

"It's nothing, just a scratch," he replied, but he knew it was worse than that. He felt a little dizzy from the hit, and had flashbacks to when Gerrard clubbed him and sent him into a coma. Maggie must have been thinking the same thing.

"You need to go back and have Denise look at you. You've already had one concussion."

"And leave you here? No way," he protested.

"You don't have to do this," she said.

"I do," Aaron said with a raised voice. He realized his tone was harsh, and closed his eyes to regain his temper. "I do," he said again in a more hushed manner. "People are dead, Maggie, and no matter what you or anyone else says, I know for a fact that's on me. I have to make things right, and if that means helping you find Glenn, then that's what I have to do."

Maggie studied him a moment, and then nodded. "Alright." She searched her bag and found some gauze and tape. "First, let's do something about that cut on your forehead. This water is disgusting, and the last thing you need is for that to get infected, if it isn't already." Maggie patched him up and they were on their way again.

Eventually, they came to the end of the sewer system. It opened up so that they could walk straight out, except for the iron bar gate. Maggie turned to Aaron, who was behind her and started to ask about the gate, but Aaron already held a key in his hand. They took a moment to look outside. The sewer dumped them out right at the back of the herd.

"They're too close," Maggie said worriedly. "We'll never make it out of here.

"As soon as I open the gate, go to the right. It's kind of a steep hill, but the walkers will struggle to climb it. It will slow them down, but keep you footing. You don't want to slip and slide down into them," Aaron told her. He took his knife out and got ready.

Maggie stood still a moment longer, deep in thought as she looked at the ground around her feet. "Glenn and I have this thing. If one of us is in trouble, we will always send out some kind of sign or signal."

"Yeah?" Aaron wondered.

"I would have thought he'd of done something by now if he was still–" She could finish her sentence.

"Don't do this now, Maggie. He's out there somewhere, and we have to find him," Aaron assured her.

"That's our other promise. We will always try to find each other."

"Then what are we waiting for." Aaron pulled the padlock around so he could insert the key.

"Aaron, wait," she said softly.

"As soon as I open this up, we need to go, just in case the door makes noise and draws their attention," he said, ignoring her.

"No," she protested lightly.

"We can't wait any longer."

"No. Please wait a–"

"There's no time. Ok, here we go," Aaron insisted, thinking Maggie was just getting nervous.

"I said no!" she shouted.

Aaron stopped what he was doing and turned to her with a questioning look, wondering why. They had made it all this way. They had risked their lives just to get this far.

Maggie continued. "We made this pact a long time ago, and we've always stuck done this. We swore we'd never stop looking for each other if we ever became separated. But this time . . ." She paused and wiped a tear away. "This time is different."

"How so?" Aaron asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"This time I can't go because we made a new pact. We had to, you see. I can't go because I wouldn't just be risking my life."

Aaron was clueless. It was only the two of them, and he made an assumption. "If it's me you're worried about, I assure you I–"

"I'm pregnant," she whispered.

Aaron stared at her open mouthed. Suddenly, breaking the quiet moment between them, a group of roamers slammed into the gate. They must have been drawn over by Maggie's shout. Aaron jumped away from the iron bars as their thin bony hands reached in trying to grab him, but he knew they couldn't get in. Aaron never had a chance to unlock it. He went to Maggie and laid his hands upon her shoulders. "Are … are you sure?"

Maggie was crying as she nodded to confirm. "That's why I wasn't out there with them. That's why I stayed in Alexandria."

"I'll admit, I thought it was a bit strange that you didn't go, but . . ." He looked at her face, and the sadness was killing him. This should be a happy time for her. Aaron pulled her against his chest and let her cry into his shoulder. "Hey now, it's alright. You have to keep hope, Maggie. Maybe the reason he hasn't signaled is because he hasn't been able to. He could be hiding out somewhere."

"I've always told myself that I would never give up looking for Glenn, even if what I found was … well, you know. I've always had to know because I don't think I could go on not knowing what happened to him. This time, though, maybe I don't get to know. I thought I could do it. I thought I could go out there, look for him and stay safe, but what if he's really gone this time. This baby might be all that's left of my husband, and I won't risk losing that."

Aaron held her and let her cry. He thought about what she said, and she was right not to go out there. "I'll go," he whispered in her ear.

Maggie pushed away from him and looked into his eyes with terror. "Aaron, no."

"I'll have to find another way out. This way is blocked. And besides, I need to get you back home. But I'll go and find Glenn, and one way or another you'll know."

"You can't do that. What about Daryl?" she protested.

"Daryl's out there doing everything he can to keep us safe. Now's my time to contribute in some way, and what's most important right now is you and Glenn," he explained.

Maggie shook her head. "I won't let you do that. If I stay and you go, and something happens to you, and Daryl comes back and finds out that you–"

"I can handle myself, Maggie. I've done it many times before."

"I need you to stay," she said, if only a bit reluctantly.

"Why?"

"Besides Glenn, you're the only one who knows about the baby. I … I don't want anyone else knowing right now. It's so soon, and if something happens, I don't want everyone's pity. But having someone else know is comforting too, and I just … I … Please stay, ok?" she pleaded, which was very unlike Maggie.

He couldn't turn her down, not now that they had bonded. Aaron nodded and hugged her again. "Alright, I'll stay. Now, let's get you home. I'll make you some tea." The sudden urge to take care of her came naturally to Aaron. This was what he was good at.

They finally made it back, and Aaron was walking Maggie home when she stopped. "There's something I need to do first," she said, glancing at the wall of names. Without waiting for him, she made her way over. Aaron followed. She stood at the wall, looking at Glenn's name, a pugnacious gleam in her eye. Then she took the sleeve of her shirt and began rubbing at the paint, trying to erase Glenn's name. Aaron thought it had been a premature decision to put Glenn and Nicholas up there. No one knew for sure what their fate was.

Aaron picked up a discarded water bottle still half filled. He handed it to her, and she smiled. Together, they scrubbed at the two names, as hope returned to their hearts. Aaron felt a laugh bubble up in his throat, and it came out as a huff. Maggie glanced sideways at him. "What?" she questioned.

"What do you think?" he said with a smile. "Aaron if it's a boy or Erin if it's a girl."

"That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?" she teased.

"Well, I did save you back there in the sewer."

"I was doing fine on my own," she protested.

"Maggie, your hand went through its chest and came out of its back," he reminded her.

She laughed. "Alright, so I needed a little help, but I'm not so sure it was name worthy help," she said jokingly.

"Ok," he mocked disappointment. "Well, if you won't name the baby after me, then can I at least be known as Uncle Aaron?" he jested.

"That we can certainly do," she smiled as she rubbed the wall with her shirt. She slowed her motions until she stopped and looked at Aaron working next to her. "Thank you, Aaron. Thank you for this." She reached up and kissed his cheek.

Aaron smiled at her, and then they both continued their work. He felt better about things now, although he still felt the guilt from earlier. At least now he felt like he was helping and making a difference. Now, if only Daryl would come home, and Glenn, and Sasha and Abraham. If they would come back soon, everything could get back to the way it was. But despite everything that happened that day, the rollercoaster of emotions, the dangers, and the joy of learning that a new life had been created, Aaron still felt emptiness in his heart. As long as Daryl was gone, Aaron would not rest easy. And as the sun began to set on that very disturbing day, a new fear settled over Aaron, the fear of having to go on without Daryl.

"Please come home soon," Aaron said to himself several times as hid his worry from Maggie. "I don't know what I'll do without you. I need you here, Daryl. I'm not ready to let you go yet, so hurry back. You promised me that."

* * *

 **Author's note** (12-9-2015):

To all my dear readers and reviewers, I'd like to say thank you for your continued support and kind words. I'm happy to know my story is being read and hopefully enjoyed. Writing is my life. It keeps me going in times happiness or despair. To be able to share my work with people who appreciate it is one of my joys, and to know through reviews how it affects my readers is the best thing I can think of as an author.

So now I must take a short break from this story, as I've pretty much caught up to the season 6 mid-season finale. I feel I can't take this any further until I know where the TV version goes. Their timeline is my backdrop, and though I have ideas of where I'd like to take this, I feel I need to wait before I put those thoughts on paper. I promise I will be back once the show get rolling again, and I hope you will continue the journey with me. Depending on the site you are reading this story, either set your Story Alert option or check back after the second half of season 6 gets underway for the continuation of Safe Haven in the Chaos, or set your Author Alert option to see any new stories. I have other ideas for other characters, and it's possible that I'll begin posting these during the downtime for this story. Again, thank you for your support, and we'll pick up again soon. **IdrilsSecret**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29 When The Walls Come Tumbling Down**

Rick gathered the group to talk about how to get the walkers away from the town. If they stayed much longer, the sheer size of the herd pushing down on them would compromise the walls. He told the people his idea. "If I can get out there into a car, I think I can draw some of them away. We just need them to get distracted."

"How the hell are you going to get outside?" Carol asked. "We're surrounded. We can't even open the gate or they'll come flooding in."

"I'll have to scale the wall. We got any flares left? I just need a couple of you to clear a path to a car so that I have a straight shot," Rick explained.

"It's going to take more than just one man and one car. I'll go too," Aaron volunteered.

"No, I need you here," Rick said instantly, the same way he had when Aaron asked to help lead the herd from the quarry.

"Doing what?" Aaron retaliated. "There's nothing to do here but wait. I can't sit around anymore. I need to do something."

"I'll take one of my people, but I need you here." Rick stared him down, and Aaron knew there was no winning this argument. Rick, even with his recent speech about being one, still referred to everyone as us and them, and Aaron was still one of them.

"There's got to be a better way of dealing with this," Deanna said. She was trying to keep in charge, but Rick was clearly leading this one. "There are sewers that lead outside the walls."

"We've already checked into that," Maggie said and shook her head. She glanced at Aaron. "There are walkers at the sewer exit. It's not an option, and they could get in that way too."

"I'll go with Rick over the wall," Michonne chimed in. "It's worth a shot. There's a couple cars just outside the gate. Maggie and Aaron can fire off some flares in either direction. Rick and I will slip out and head for the cars. We just got to make enough noise to get the herd to start following us."

"This is crazy," Spenser complained. "You all are going to get yourselves killed, and leave us even more vulnerable than we are right now. Haven't we lost enough people already?"

"Well, if you have a better idea, I'd sure love to hear it," Rick challenged. Spenser said nothing. "I thought so."

The group all started arguing about what to do, how to do it, and who would go. Aaron thought Rick's plan wasn't that far off the mark. The execution was a little strained, but if anyone could pull this off it was Rick. The only one not arguing was Deanna, who sat back and watched Rick take the lead. She almost seemed to smile, and Aaron knew what she was thinking. Rick really did believe in Alexandria. Now if they could just get him to believe that its people could handle it and help out.

Everyone's voices were raised, trying to be heard over the others, but there was one voice that stood out amongst them. "Hey! Guys!" Maggie repeated, trying to get everyone's attention. "Look out there! Hey! Y'all stop a second, shut up and look!" She shouted the last part so loud that everyone stopped talking at once. Off in the distance there was something floating up into the air.

"Are those … balloons?" Michonne asked.

Aaron shaded his eyes with his hand and focused on the distance. Sure enough, there was a group of green balloons slowly lifting into the sky.

"It's Glenn," Maggie said with a smile. "I know it is. It has to be him. It's what we've always told each other. If we get separated, one of us will send a sign or a signal to let the other know we're still here." Tears came to her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hands in excitement.

"I knew he'd come back," Rick said to himself. Obviously, he'd been worried too.

Aaron was relieved too, and he was happy, if this really was Glenn, but it still left an unanswered question. Where was Daryl?

"Maybe they're with him," Maggie whispered in Aaron's ear. She must have seen the look of concern on his face, and knew what he was thinking.

"Alright," Rick said, going into rescue mode. "There's a sea of walkers at least twenty deep, and we need to get him inside. That's our first priority now. Then, we'll figure out how to deal with the herd."

"Wait! What's that noise?" Spenser asked, and everyone stopped talking.

There was a low groaning and creaking, then the sound of wood snapping. It sounded like a forest was falling. And then the movement caught everyone's eye. The guard tower was starting to move. Aaron thought about it. That's where the Wolves crashed their truck, making the horn blow, which led to the mess they were in now. The tower wasn't just swaying, it was leaning, and it was leaning towards the wall.

"It's coming down!" Aaron yelled.

"Everyone back!" Rick warned, pushing people away from the location of the tower.

It fell, crushing the steel wall beneath it. Dust clouded the area. Pieces of wood flew through the air. Some of the people fell as they tried to run away. Most were choking on the dirt and dust. Visibility was zero, and for a few moments after it was over, there was complete silence. Then they heard it, the groans and the growls … the walkers coming into the town. Everyone stood still and peered into the cloud. Shapes began appearing like apparitions. The people were stunned, and no one was doing anything.

"Walkers!" Rick finally yelled. "Everyone get inside. Lock the doors. Turn off all lights. Draw the curtains and keep quiet."

Everyone scattered, but some were already overtaken by walkers. That made some people panic, and they weren't paying attention to what they were doing or where they were going. Aaron tried to wave them towards him. He would lead them to a safe place, but they were too terrified. It was too late for them. Then, Aaron thought about the people who hadn't been at the meeting. They would have heard the tower crashing down. They would come out of their houses to see what happened, and they would be vulnerable. Aaron took off to warn them.

Just as he thought, people were standing on their porches or out in the street. Aaron began yelling, warning them about the walkers. "Get inside right now and stay there. Don't come out until someone comes for you. You stay out here and you will die."

People fled back inside, fear on their faces. Aaron kept running up the street, calling out to the people. Up ahead he saw Eric and Olivia. Eric saw Aaron and ran towards him. "What happened? Are we under attack again?"

"The tower fell and a section of the wall is down. The walkers are inside. You and Olivia get in the house and stay there until I come back for you. Keep quiet and keep still. No lights. No noise," Aaron told them. The door to the house they were in front of opened, and Tobin came out onto his porch. Aaron shoved Eric and Olivia. "Go inside with Tobin." Then he yelled to Tobin. "Don't come out. Walkers are inside. Stay in your house. You see anyone else walking around out here, take them in."

"Aaron!" he heard someone yell, and turned to see Caleb.

"Geez, Caleb." It scared Aaron that he hadn't even thought of him during all of this. "Go with Eric. Stay in the house."

"Why? What's going on?" Caleb asked. "Maybe I can help."

Eric put a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "Come on. I'll explain."

Aaron started to leave to check on other residents, but Eric called out to him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm warning the others, and then I'm heading to the infirmary. Just go, Eric," Aaron warned, and he was gone.

When Aaron got to the infirmary, he'd hoped to see Rick and the others. It was only Heath and Spenser, and they were moving the patients upstairs. "Where's Denise?" Aaron asked them.

"I don't know," Scott told him. Scott had suffered a gunshot wound to the leg, and he was still healing. "She left a couple hours ago and never came back."

"We came to warn Scott and Denise of what happened," Heath said. He'd been at Rick's meeting too.

"Anyone seen Carol?" Aaron asked, and both men shook their heads. Everyone was scattered over the town, and no one knew where anyone was. "Turn off the lights," Aaron said, and they watched through slits in the curtains as the streets filled with walkers.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Heath whispered at Aaron's side.

Aaron slowly shook his head. "I don't know." For the first time, he didn't have a clue as to how they were going to get out of this situation. All he could do was pray that everyone else made it to safety, and that Daryl was alright, wherever he was.

* * *

Tired of watching the chaos outside, Heath and Aaron sat down and started trying to figure out what they could do. There was a back door, but walkers blocked the way. There was a second story. Maybe they could get out on a roof, but what would they do then. The only weapons they had were the ones they had with them, a gun and a knife with no extra ammo.

"Guys," Spenser called. He was still keeping watch out the window. "I think I see someone."

Heath and Aaron jumped up and went to the window. Just as they did, they heard a gunshot. It sounded close. "I'll cover you," they heard someone call. "Get inside."

Suddenly, Denise was running towards the door. Aaron opened it just as she got to it. She almost fell inside, and Aaron slammed the door shut.

"Denise, are you hurt?" Aaron asked, checking her over.

"I … I think I'm ok," she said, out of breath from running.

"We heard a gun," Heath said.

"Yeah, that was Carol. She's down a few houses, in one of those unfinished townhomes."

"Thank God," Aaron said quietly.

"Where did you go?" Scott asked from across the room.

"Morgan came and got me. Said he needed my help. He had a wound. I thought he meant for himself. Turns out, he was keeping one of those Wolves hostage in a basement. The guy had a wound, but he wouldn't say if it was from a weapon or a bite. Morgan asked me to treat him, but to keep it quiet. I guess Carol followed Morgan. She confronted him. They fought. He knocked her out. That's when the Wolf knocked Morgan out. Rosita, Tara and Eugene showed up, but this Wolf guy took me hostage and he made us go out into the street. We were hiding in a stairwell, made a break for the wall. I hesitated. He came back for me. He got bite on the arm, but I talked him into coming back to the infirmary. I was prepared to take his arm off to save his life. We were almost here when I heard the gun go off and the Wolf fell to the ground. Carol shot him. And now I'm here."

"Jesus," Aaron said to her unbelievable story.

"What about Eugene and the others?" Heath asked.

"I guess they're still in the basement. They're trapped just like the rest of us. Guys, I was out there. It's overflowing with roamers. We might be stuck here for a while," Denise explained.

Aaron and Heath looked at each other. They read each other's mindd. If they were stuck here for a while, what were they going to do for food?

"Maybe it won't be that long," Heath said with optimism.

"We should come up with a plan to get to other people," Aaron offered. Food was not the biggest priority at the moment. "What about Rick? Did anyone see which way he went?"

"My guess is that he went to Jessie's house," Denise said. "I asked Carol where the baby was, and she left Judith with Jesse when she went to follow Morgan.

Jesse's house was at the other end of the street. It was too far to go. "Looks like we're on our own for now," Spenser said.

Aaron went to the window and looked through the curtains. The street was thick with walkers. They couldn't go out there. He thought of what Daryl would do in this situation. He wouldn't go out in the street, that's for sure. Where was Daryl, he wondered. He should be here. It never should have taken him this long to come home, even with the change in plans.

He was looking outside, but his eyes were blind to the scene before him. All Aaron could think about was Daryl. How the hell was he going to get back inside with the town overrun? As Aaron started trying to figure out a plan, he almost missed the unusual commotion going on outside. There was a group out there going against the tide of the walkers. It was dark, but Aaron squinted and focused on the movement. At first he thought it was walkers, but then someone turned their head, and he saw that it was Rick.

"Hey guys, Rick is out there," Aaron called out, unable to peel his eyes away. The others rushed to the window.

"Are you sure? It's pretty dark," Heath said, trying to see for himself.

"I swear it was Rick. I saw his face, and whoever he's with, they're all going against the flow of walkers," Aaron said.

"They're going towards the gate," Heath pointed out. "They're making a break for it."

There were so many walkers, Aaron lost sight of Rick, but he kept watching. Suddenly, walkers in that area turned and began going towards the place where Aaron spotted Rick. "Oh shit," he whispered.

"What? What's happening?" Spenser asked.

"I don't know but–" Aaron started to say when they heard a gunshot ring out. He waited to hear more, but it was just that one.

Everyone in the infirmary held their breath and waited to see what would happen next. All they could see was walkers gathering in one place, and that was not a good thing. That meant that someone fell and they were being overrun by walkers.

"Should we go out there and try to help?" Heath asked.

"It might be too late. Someone out there didn't make it. That's why the roamers are all gathered in one place," Spenser said nervously.

"We have to help," Aaron said with anger. It was killing him to sit there and not do anything. Aaron always helped. That's what he did. "They're in trouble. If it was us, you'd want–"

"I see Michonne!" Heath yelled. "She's coming this way. Get the door unlocked."

Denise went to the door and unlocked it, but she waited to open it until Michonne was right at it. "Tell me when," she told Aaron.

Aaron watched as Michonne hacked and slashed her way through the herd. That's when he saw Rick. He was carrying something … no … someone. "Oh my God," he said. "It's Carl."

"Now! Open the door now!" Heath called, and Denise did as he said.

Michonne came in first, and then Rick carrying Carl. There was blood dripping from the boy's head, and his face … it looked as though half of it was missing. Denise slammed the door and locked it as she instructed Rick to lay Carl on one of the patient beds. She went to work instantly, and asked what happened as she tried to figure it out for herself. Rick was in shock, pacing back and forth so Michonne answered for him.

"It was Ron. He … he shot him. I had no choice. I had to kill him. He was aiming the gun at Carl. I ran my sword through him, but he still fired a shot," Michonne explained in a panic. "Can you help him? Can you help Carl?"

"Is he dead? Is my boy dead?" Rick said from the other side of the bed.

Denise had been checking his vitals. "He's got a pulse. He's alive." She started calling out commands for different medical supplies, and anyone standing around not doing anything started helping. Michonne stayed bent down with her head next to Carl, whispering in his ear, but Rick backed up and started pacing again.

Aaron noticed Rick and Michonne had been dressed in what he heard Daryl once call meat ponchos. It looked like they took sheets, cut a hole for the head and smeared it with walker gore. Daryl had told him how they'd done this in the past. It made you next to invisible to the walkers. So, they had disguised themselves in order to get out of Jesse's house. This made him wonder what happened to her and Sam. Aaron glanced at Rick again. His face and arms were covered in blood and filth. He held an ax in one hand, fresh blood still staining the blade. Michonne mentioned Ron, so Jesse and Sam must have been with them. He was about to ask where they were and who else was with them, when Rick turned to the door and approached it. He didn't say a word to anyone. He was leaving. Michonne saw him and called out to him, but he ignored her. Rick left the infirmary, closing the door behind him.

"Where the hell is he going?" Spenser asked.

Aaron went to the window again and watched as Rick started killing walkers who had come up on the porch. All he had was that ax, and he was swinging it, finding a second strength within him, one that seemed almost inhuman. "My God, he's taking them on by himself."

Michonne looked up at Denise. "I have to go with him."

"No, I need you here. I'm almost–"

"You don't understand. I have to. I have no other choice. I'm sorry." She kissed Carl on the forehead and ran out of the infirmary, joining Rick in his one man fight against the herd.

"This is it," Aaron said. "There's no choice anymore. We fight or we die." He thought of Daryl. He thought of Caleb. He even thought of Eric. That's why he had to do this.

"I'm with you," Heath said.

"Me too," Spenser joined in.

They all got their weapons ready and left the infirmary. They made their way to Rick and Michonne. Rick looked up from his bloody rampage and saw the three men. "Get in formation with our backs to each other."

They formed a circle and started fighting their way through the herd, focusing on anything that came at them and taking it down. Everyone was fighting with such intensity, they almost didn't notice when others join the cause. Suddenly, Tara, Rosita and Eugene were there, helping to take down the walkers. Their circle grew and they were stronger. And then Carol and Morgan were there. Aaron caught a glimpse of Carol, and he was glad to see she was alright. Aaron's will and strength doubled with everyone around him, everyone fighting and giving it their all. He felt really good about their odds, when he noticed more people coming to the fight and joining the circle. Tobin, Olivia, and a couple other Alexandrians, people he had never seen in this position. And then, Aaron saw Eric, and remembered that he was in the house with Tobin and Olivia. Now he started to worry, and his need to protect was getting in the way of his need to kill.

Rick shouted for them to divide into two groups and spread themselves out more. Instantly, Eric and Aaron fought their way to each other. They were side by side, each with a knife as they slaughtered roamers.

When he could finally speak, Aaron started to berate Eric. "What the hell! I thought I told you to stay in the house with Tobin."

"And let you have all the fun? No way," Eric said as he brought his knife down on the head of a walker before him.

Before, Aaron could spend all his concentration on stabbing approaching walkers, but now, he found himself constantly looked over at Eric. It was distracting him, his worry for Eric's safety. "You need to get to the infirmary. Denise could use your help. Carl's been shot. She's trying to save him," Aaron told Eric.

"This is where I belong right now," Eric told him. "I saw you out here with the others, and I couldn't let you do this alone. I'll always be there for you."

Aaron knew that was a jab at Daryl. Even now with everything happening, Eric still managed to take shots at him. There was no time to defend Daryl or argue. Too many corpses were still coming at them.

"So, what are we doing? Are we making our way out of here?" Eric asked when there was a slight lull in the action.

"Just stay with the group and concentrate," Aaron said, keeping one eye on Eric and the other on the walkers. That was the last thing they said to each other as a new wave came at them.

Aaron was surprised to see how well Eric was fighting. He'd always thought Eric was a bit weak when it came to this. Maybe he'd never given Eric a chance. Aaron was always the protector, doing whatever it took to see that Eric was safe. Now, no one was safe, but at least Aaron was next to him where he could keep an eye out.

The group circle was beginning to break down as everyone kept trying to push the herd back. Suddenly, Aaron noticed that he and Eric were further away from the rest of the group than he felt comfortable with. That left a spot open, which Aaron hadn't noticed. Eric did, though. He looked past Aaron, eyes as wide as half dollars. "Aaron! Look out!" Eric yelled as he lunged forward and past Aaron.

As Aaron spun around to stab at his attacker, Eric rushed between them, and grabbed the walker by the shoulders, deflecting it away from Aaron. Both Eric and the walker went down, but Aaron was right there and stabbed it in the head. He stood up straight again to check his surroundings. "Push that thing off of you and let's get back to the group. We're too far away," Aaron told him just before he knifed two corpses in the head. "Hurry up, Eric. Let's go!"

* * *

Daryl, Sasha and Abraham had been through a few days of crazy shit, getting shot at, separated, taken hostage, weapons stolen, and almost executed by a group of punk-ass bikers. Daryl had been looking forward to getting home, seeing Aaron again and sleeping for at least twenty four hours uninterrupted. Unfortunately, what they came upon was more chaos.

"What the fuck?" Daryl said as he drove a gas truck towards Alexandria. He stopped the truck, and he, Sasha and Abe got out of the cab. Daryl climbed the ladder on the back of the truck and stood on top to get the best view.

"You hear that?" Sasha said.

"Yeah," Abraham said with no enthusiasm. "Son of a bitch."

"Looks like Rick couldn't steer them away. It's the back half of the herd that broke away," Daryl informed them. "Thousands of them and … Oh fuck."

"What?" Sasha and Abe said simultaneously.

"The guard tower is down. Took part of the wall with it. The herd's inside the town," Daryl said. "They're everywhere. We gotta find a way in." He remained calm, but inside, Daryl's guts were clenching. If the town was overrun, then what happened to everyone? What happened to Aaron? And then he heard a woman yelling. Sasha and Abraham heard it too.

"That's Maggie. Sounds like her and Glenn are in trouble," Sasha said.

Daryl spotted her on the platform where they kept watch on the gate. "I see here," he said as he scrambled down the ladder. "Get in." They all piled back into the truck and headed for the gate. Daryl pulled the truck up alongside the wall, and Sasha and Abe climbed on top of the tanker with their guns. Looking down into the yard, they found Glenn about to get overrun by walkers. Sasha and Abe opened fire, giving Glenn room. Now they noticed Enid was with Maggie on the scaffolding. Neither one looked to be badly hurt. Glenn got up, dusted off and opened the gate so Daryl could pull the truck in. A group of walkers surrounded the base of the platform where Maggie and Enid were. Glenn jumped into the cab of the truck. Sasha and Abe opened fire on the walkers until they cleared a path for Daryl, who pulled the truck up to the scaffolding. Sasha and Abe helped Maggie and Enid onto the tanker. Everyone was safe for now.

"What the hell happened here?" Daryl asked Glenn.

"I don't know. I just got here myself. The tower's down," Glenn noticed.

"That's how the herd got in. You see anyone else?" Daryl asked.

Glenn shook his head. "No. Like I said, I just got here, me and Enid. We saw Maggie trapped on the lookout."

Daryl pulled the truck forward a little more, and then he got out to check on Maggie and the others. Everyone came down from the tanker. Maggie's leg was injured. She was limping pretty badly. He was about to ask her if she knew what happened, but he suddenly heard people shouting across the lake. Daryl climbed the ladder and looked towards the commotion. There were walkers everywhere, all of them crowded into the streets of the town. He could see something going on over there, and then he saw walkers falling to the ground. "I see them!" he shouted to the others. "They're out there fighting the herd."

"Who?" Abe asked.

"Everyone, looks like it. Or almost everyone. They're getting too close to the wall over there. They're gonna get trapped," Daryl informed. With no time to waste, Daryl started taking a mental inventory of everything they had. Their biggest weapon was the tanker of gas, but he didn't want to burn the whole town down. There could be people trapped in their houses. Shit, Aaron could be surrounded, alone, trapped in their home. An overwhelming urgency to find him almost made Daryl rush to the other side of the lake, and fight his way through the herd to get to Aaron. He reined in his wild tendencies to come up with a plan. The whole town was in danger, not just Aaron. He knew they needed to cause a diversion and draw the walkers away from the people out fighting in the street. Daryl looked at the truck's tank under his feet, and then to the lake, and he was struck with an idea.

"Abe, back the truck up to the lake. Everyone else, get your weapons ready," Daryl called down to the others.

Abraham parked the truck and Daryl told him to open the valve and dump the fuel into the water. Then he told Sasha to hand him the launcher still in the truck's cab. Now, Daryl stood atop the tanker, aiming the launcher at the center of the lake. Suddenly, he heard Eric's voice cut through the noise. He was yelling at Aaron, calling out to him to warn him. Daryl lowered the launcher and searched the crowd. Somehow, he spotted Aaron and Eric, saw Eric lunge at him, and both men disappeared as walkers surrounded them.

"Aaron!" Daryl yelled, but the noise was too loud. No one would hear him from over here. His heart was leaping out of his chest, knowing Aaron was in danger. He did the only thing he could at the moment, fired the rocket and watched as the lake went up like a bomb. At first, it was too bright and the flames were too high to see what was happening on the other side of the water. As the fire began to calm, he could finally see. The flames illuminated the town, and there were his people, along with some of the Alexandrians. They were still fighting. But he didn't see Aaron or Eric anymore.

Daryl jumped down, took his knife out of his belt and started to run towards the last place where he saw Aaron. Everyone followed him, ready to join the fight, but Daryl's only thought was for Aaron. He feared the worst, finding Aaron dead and mangled, and knowing he would have to be the one to stick a knife through his brain. He suddenly thought of the time in the prison, when he thought Carol was dead, and he would have to do the same thing. Fortunately, he found her alive. Would fate be on his side this time too? It had to be. He wasn't ready to lose Aaron, not now when he was so close.

* * *

"Eric, let's go!" Aaron called out again. He saw a lull in the fighting, just long enough to allow him to push the walker off of Eric. What he found made his heart stop beating. Eric was still alive, but there was a gaping wound on his neck and blood was pouring out. Aaron dropped to his knees, not caring if he was about to be attacked or not. All he saw was that Eric had been bit, and he wasn't going to make it much longer.

"Oh Eric," he cried. "No. No, not now, not this." He held his hand over the wound to try and slow the blood. Aaron knew what a bite meant, but he couldn't stop himself from trying to help. Blood flowed through his fingers. Eric was bleeding out. "Why? Aaron argued. "Why did you have to come out here? You should have stayed inside like I told you. The rest of us, we had this."

Aaron didn't notice when Rick and Michonne stood behind him, looking down at Eric laying on the ground. Rick saw the wound. "We have to go, Aaron. This fight's not over."

"No," Aaron said.

"You stay and you die with him," Rick warned with authority. Rick turned around and stuck his ax into the head of another walker while Michonne took the heads off of two more on the other side. "There's no time left. We have to–"

Unexpectedly, there was a huge explosion and a ball of fire went up, lighting the town. Everyone looked up to see what happened, and saw the lake was on fire. Rick shaded his eyes, trying to see what was going on. "That was no accident."

"Looks like help has arrived," Michonne said. "Look, half the walkers are going towards the fire.

Carol, Morgan, and the others came over to Rick and Michonne to regroup. Not all of the walkers were attracted to the fire, but at least the ones who stayed behind were fewer and more manageable. They were still in danger, and they needed to get back into formation and finish what they started. Everyone did just that except for Aaron, who refused to leave Eric to die alone.

"Aaron, we have to move, now!" Carol demanded.

"I can't leave him here. I … I can't," Aaron answered.

Carol was getting upset with him, but Michonne stepped in. "I'll watch him. Most of the herd is going towards the lake. You all just keep moving, keep clearing them out."

Carol didn't look happy about it, but Aaron was adamant about staying. Unable to win the argument, Carol took off to help the rest of the group. Michonne took up guard, standing over Aaron and Eric, swinging her katana at anything that threatened them.

Eric was still conscious, but he was losing a lot of blood. Both men knew there wasn't much time left. "Aaron … go … it's … too late for me," Eric stammered.

Aaron shook his head. "No, I can't do that. I'm not going to leave you alone. You know you would do the same for me."

"You stay and … you'll be … dead too."

"Michonne is here. She won't let anything happen," Aaron told him.

"And … what about … Daryl. He's–"

"He's not here, and right now you need me," Aaron said, and Eric started coughing up blood. He didn't have much longer.

Eric managed a half smile and rolled his eyes towards the fiery lake. "Who do you think did that? He's here, Aaron. He'll always be here. I … I think I've known that … a while now. I … just couldn't … bring … myself to … believe it. He's a good man … and … he needs you now."

Aaron lifted his hand slightly, and blood pumped quickly out of the wound. Aaron squeezed his eyes shut and bit his bottom lip. "Dammit, Eric. Goddamn you," he yelled.

Aaron's shouting didn't bother Eric. Emotions were running high, and Eric could feel himself giving out. He wasn't done yet. There was still something he needed Aaron to do. He found what little strength he had left and reached his hand up to grasp Aaron's arm. "Promise me you'll look. Promise me you'll see if there's really another sanctuary. This place isn't safe anymore. You have to go somewhere safe."

"Eric," Aaron said, shaking his head. "That was just a lie that Alison planted in your head."

"But it might not be. The truth is, I … I was getting ready to leave Alexandria. I … was going … to find it … myself. You must look … please … and if it's true … go … just go … and be safe." Eric was beginning to fade towards unconsciousness, but he wasn't done yet. He forced his eyes opened and gazed up at Aaron. "You'll … take care of me … when … I'm gone?"

Aaron's brows creased, and he looked away for a moment. He couldn't look Eric in the eyes and agree, but he slowly nodded.

Eric's breathing was quickly becoming shallow. He didn't have much longer. Aaron saw Michonne out of the corner of his eye, slashing at walkers just to give him and Eric their last moments together, but there wasn't much of a window of opportunity left as the herd was closing in. But Aaron wouldn't leave Eric's side before he passed. He promised to make sure Eric wouldn't come back. He could never let him become one of those monsters, but he sure as hell wouldn't do it before Eric died. Staying with him as he lost his life was the only thing Aaron had left to offer him. They'd been through so much together, and unfortunately, the last part of their relationship had been rocky. Aaron would always regret that, and he needed Eric to know. "I'm … I'm sorry I hurt you," he confessed.

Eric forced a smile, receiving comfort from hearing it. "It's … alright. I … accepted it. You love him, not me, but at least … I had you for … a short while."

"I did love you. I do love you. I hope you know that," Aaron said as tears welled up in his eyes.

Eric's bloody hand touched the side of Aaron's face. "Thank you," he whispered, smiling through the pain. His hand fell back to his side.

Aaron watched him, waiting for the final breath, knowing that at any second it would be his last. There was so much more he wished he'd said to Eric, but now, in that moment, he couldn't think of a single thing. All he could do was make him a promise to look for this other town Eric talked about. "When this is all over, I promise I'll go back out there and find out if–"

"Aaron!" he heard Daryl call in the distance. Aaron looked up and around, but he didn't see him. "Aaron!" he heard Daryl call out again.

"Here! I'm over here!" Aaron answered. Relief started to flow into his body. Daryl was back. He was alive. He'd made it home just as he promised. "You were right, Eric. The fire … it was Daryl. It had to be, you know that? It had to–" But his words failed him when he looked down at Eric, and his eyes were blank. He wasn't breathing anymore. Eric was gone. "Oh," Aaron exhaled with regret. He had missed it "Eric," he whimpered.

"Aaron, thank God you're–" Daryl started to say, but then he looked down at Eric, saw the bite mark, and the great loss of blood. Aaron slowly looked up at him, tears trailing down his bloody cheeks. "I'm sorry," Daryl whispered.

Michonne interrupted the somber moment when things were starting to look bad. "Aaron! Daryl! Better get up. Now!"

Daryl looked and saw more walkers approaching. He put a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "We gotta go," he said gently.

"I can't just leave him here to . . ." Aaron said. He heard Daryl pull his knife from his belt. "No," Aaron said. "I promised I'd do it."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you need to do it now. They're closing in on us. We ain't got much longer."

Aaron nodded, knowing what he had to do. He looked down at Eric another moment, leaned forward, and placed a kiss on his forehead. Then he took out his knife, and in one quick movement, brought the blade down so it entered through the temple. He pulled it out just as fast, closed his eyes and stood. Aaron never looked back at Eric. He focused on Daryl for support, trying to keep it together. There was still work to be done.

"You ready for this?" Daryl asked with concern.

Aaron didn't speak. He just nodded and looked at the oncoming walkers. The group took up their formation again, and dove into the herd. It would be a long night, but something remarkable had happened. Rick's group and the Alexandrians had proved just how much they believed in the town. From that moment on, there would be no more us and them, our people and yours. Now it was all of them together fighting to preserve their home. Alexandria would stand as proof that there was still somewhere safe, something worth saving. Tonight was over. Tomorrow would bring new hope.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30 In The Morning's Light**

It was a long night, but everyone fought through it, thinning the herd one at a time until there were only stragglers roaming around. The sun was up now, and the reality of what they had been up against was clear in the light. It wasn't until everything was over that anyone had a moment to think. Rick wasted no time and ran back to the infirmary to check on Carl. The rest of the group stood in the street littered with dead walkers. They were exhausted, covered in blood and gore, and in a certain stage of shock or numbness. It looked like everything was under control again. Everyone left was alright, but Alexandria had lost a dramatic number of people since a group of scavengers broke over the walls. Because of the Wolves and the walkers, the town suffered great loss.

Rick's people didn't stand around long. They were used to this kind of battle. They'd done it many times before, though not on such a large scale. Daryl watched Michonne and Carol head back to the infirmary. Glenn and Maggie held each other among the sea of bodies. The rest were taking a moment to catch their breath and examine themselves for bites or scratches. Aaron stood alone. He looked lost and grief stricken, and it made Daryl's heart sink to see him in such a state of desolation.

Sasha and Abraham approached Daryl. They seemed to lean on each other, not physically, but mentally. Sasha grasped Daryl's shoulder and watched his face. "You alright?" she asked.

"I'm alive," Daryl groaned.

"Hell yeah," Abe responded quietly.

"How about Aaron?" Sasha said with a tilt of her head.

"I don't know. Haven't talked to him since we got here. Eric … he's dead," Daryl told them.

Both Sasha and Abe bowed their heads at the news. They didn't say anything but they showed their respect with a grasp of an arm and a solid pat on the back. Then they headed towards the infirmary where everyone seemed to be gathering on the porch.

Daryl looked back to where Aaron had been, but he was gone. Another quick scan, and he saw Aaron walking back to the place where Eric had perished. Should he go to him, Daryl wondered? But Aaron hadn't said anything, hadn't asked for help. Daryl figured he needed this time for himself. He needed to say goodbye perhaps. Whatever he was doing, he didn't need Daryl at the moment, so Daryl headed back to the infirmary with the others. He needed a little patching up of his own.

* * *

Eric was heavier than he thought, Aaron noticed when he picked up the limp body. He carried his friend and once lover to the field where they buried their dead. Some of the other Alexandrians were already there, digging graves for the fallen. Aaron carefully laid Eric on the ground and looked around. There wasn't much room left. The area was small, but then, they never expected to bury so many of their own. They lived for such a long time without incident. Those days were over, and now less than half of the town was left … the rest taken by walkers or Wolves.

A woman came up to Aaron and rubbed her hand gently over his arm. "We'll take care of him," she said softly. Aaron was in such a daze, he couldn't remember her name, but he smiled and thanked her anyways. She smiled back and wiped some dirt from his face. It didn't do much good. Dirt and blood was caked on at this point. It had been more of a gesture anyways. "Why don't you go to the infirmary, get yourself checked over."

"I … I should really be here when–"

"We won't bury him without you. Someone will come and get you when the grave is dug. OK?" she said. "I promise."

Convinced that it was alright, Aaron nodded. The woman pulled him down and kissed his cheek. "You're a good man, Aaron," she whispered.

* * *

Daryl was sitting on an exam table, hunched over waiting for Denise to clean and stitch a knife wound on the back of his shoulder. When she was done checking on Carl, she came over. "What happened here?"

"Got stabbed. I think it needs stitches," he informed her.

"Alright. Let me look at it. Take your shirt off," she said casually.

Daryl squirmed on the table, suddenly very self-conscious. Denise stepped around in front of him with her hands on her hips. "Now's not the time to be bashful. Besides, we don't play for the same team, remember?" she smiled.

"It's not that," Daryl whispered as he looked around the room. "I just … Look, I've got my reasons. Can't you do this with part of my shirt off?"

"I guess so," she shook her head. Why was he being so modest all of a sudden?

Daryl shucked off his vest, letting it drop to the floor. Then he slipped his arm out of one sleeve so that his shoulder was exposed. The wound was a little further down, and Denise pulled his shirt down a little more. Daryl flinched, but she reassured him, and he relaxed again.

"The wound is deep. I'll have to clean it out and then I'll stitch it," she told him and he nodded.

While she worked, she could see scars from previous scuffles, but peeking out from the edge of his shirt, she noticed the tip of a very ugly scar, one not made recently. The skin was white and raised like a welt. This had been done many years ago, long before the apocalypse happened. Denise had seen this type of scar before, when she had gone to medical school. This was the work of a whip or a strap, perhaps a belt, and probably at the hands of his father. Her heart went out to him. She didn't know Daryl that well, didn't know his back story, but this would explain why he always seemed like the outsider.

Denise finished cleaning the wound and prepared to stitch it closed. "This might pinch a bit."

"I've felt worse," Daryl told her.

They were silent as she started her work, but the sight of the scar was really bothering her, and she felt like she needed to say something. "I'm sorry for whatever happened to you," she said lightly.

Daryl tensed, knowing she'd seen the marks on his back. "You weren't supposed to see those."

"I only saw the edge. I just … I don't know … I guess I just wanted to say that I understand what you went through," she admitted.

Daryl looked over his shoulder, glancing back at her. "You were beat too?" he asked.

"No, not physically. My scars are mental. My mom … she … she wasn't happy when I … you know, told her about my lifestyle. Said I was depriving her of grandchildren and a son in law and all that bullshit." Denise looked at the floor, lost in her memories. "I tried to do right by her afterwards. My mom always wanted me to go into medicine. I thought that if I went to med school and was successful at it, she might … see me differently." Denise huffed a laugh. "Found out that blood made me squeamish. I studied hard anyways, got good grades for a while, and when I went home for break, nothing had changed. She still wouldn't talk to me. Hell, she wouldn't even look at me. Spent all her time with my sister and her new baby. After that, I decided to drop out of medicine and do something else. I was tired of trying to make her happy. She was never going to accept me." Denise paused from her work when she realized she'd been rambling. "I'm sorry. It's been a very long time since I told anyone that."

Daryl nodded, feeling the sudden connection between them. "Yeah, well, my father believed in hands on discipline. He … uh … he never knew about me. Probably would have killed me if he did. Naw, he was a drunk, and an angry one at that. With my mom dead and my brother gone, I was all he had to take his aggression out on." He paused a moment. It had been a while since he talked about this to anyone too. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but we made it through all that. Just look at us now. We are the survivors. We have what it takes after all," she said with a positive but sarcastic attitude.

"Those people who hurt us are gone now. Guess we showed them," Daryl said. "It's probably a good thing you tried medicine. It sure is coming in handy now."

"Oh, well … I didn't really learn all that much, just the basics. I actually have a hard time with it, even now," she said. "I was hoping Pete was going to teach me a lot of stuff, but he was an asshole. He didn't show me shit. Job security, I guess," she laughed.

"Hell, at least you studied human medicine. Guy we had back at the prison was a veterinarian. Did a damn fine job of fixing us up though," Daryl reminisced, thinking back to that time with Hershel and them. "You seem to be doing alright with it. At least you don't pass out when you see blood or anything. If you asked me, I'd say you already had a degree and all that."

"I don't know what it is. I know I can do it if I put my mind to it, but when it's right in front of me, I feel myself freeze. That's another reason I quit," Denise told him.

"It's not practicing medicine that's your problem. It's what it's tied to … your mother. You said you went to med school to earn her love and respect back, but she was still a bitch even then. That's where your anxiety comes from. Medicine equals mom. You need to let go of it. She's gone now. She can't hurt you no more, not even in dreams. You're good at what you do, and we're damn lucky to have you," Daryl encouraged.

Denise finished the last stitch. "I never thought of it that way. I think you're right. How do you know all that?" she said surprised by his eye opening diagnosis.

"Because I hid in the shadows for a long time even after my family was gone. It took me a while to realize that the shadows were mine, and not my dad's. Once I accepted my fate, my choices, and myself I was able to move forward. I ain't never gonna let anyone hold me back ever again. This is me. This is who I am. I own it." He glanced over his shoulder. "The scars … those are personal. They're private … just like your scars, or at least the ones in your mind. They're a reminder, that's all. They're what make us stronger."

Denise helped Daryl shrug back into his shirt. "Thanks for the pep talk," she said.

"Yeah … sure." He buttoned his shirt up. "So, what did you do after you dropped out of med school?"

"I was going take time off from school and write. Always wanted to be a writer, maybe tell my story. Never found out if I had it in me, though. The world kind of took a giant shit … you know."

Daryl nodded in agreement as he looked over at the bed on the other side of the room where Rick was sitting with Carl. Daryl gestured towards them with a tilt of his head. "How is he? He gonna make it?"

"Nothing I could do for his eye. It's just gone. I cleaned out any pieces of bone I saw. His eye socket is shattered. He was lucky, though. Looks like the bullet ricocheted off the bone and exited. Made a mess of things, but it didn't touch the brain. My main worry is infection. As long as we keep it clean and don't run out of medicine, I think he'll be alright."

Daryl nodded. "Good. That's good to hear. Hey, how about that. You sound like a real doctor," he teased her.

Just then, the door to the infirmary opened, and Aaron came in. He was a bloody mess, but his eyes were full of concern. They fell upon Daryl right away, and he went to him. Aaron saw the blood on Daryl's shirt, and the cut mark made by the knife. "My God. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just a flesh wound. Denise here patched me up nice and neat," Daryl answered.

Denise smiled at them both. "I'm glad you're both ok." She excused herself to go check on Carl so that Aaron and Daryl could have a moment alone.

Aaron looked around the room. Everyone was out on the porch of the infirmary except Rick who was with Carl. Aaron seemed to be in a daze, still reeling from everything that had just happened.

"Hey, you alright?" Daryl asked softly. Aaron nodded, but Daryl could see his lip begin to quiver. "I'm so sorry," Daryl whispered, referring to Eric.

"I … I told him to stay with Olivia and the others. He was … he was never a strong fighter, you know?" Tears welled up in Aaron's eyes. His line of sight stayed glued to the front door, unable to look at Daryl.

"It was his choice. He died knowing what had to be done," Daryl said.

"Yeah, I … I know. It's just–" Aaron's words trailed off. His eyes became hard with anger. "What happened to you? You were supposed to be back days ago."

"Half the herd broke off when that horn sounded. Rick went to try and distract them. Me, Sasha and Abe … we had to stay with the rest, keep leading them away from town. We did. We led them to the split just like we planned. Then we turned off heading through some abandoned city. All of a sudden, we were in the middle of a spray of bullets. I crashed my bike. Sasha and Abe took a different route. We got separated. I don't know what the hell that was. It was like an ambush, but I don't think it was meant for us. We just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time," Daryl explained. He reached for Aaron's arm, but he pulled it away. Clearly, Aaron was in a state of shock. "So, what happened here? The guard tower is down, the wall is breached … walkers all over the place."

"We were attacked. This … this rogue group calling themselves Wolves."

"How'd they get in?" Daryl wondered.

Aaron looked down at his bloody hands. It was Eric's blood. "It was all my fault," he whispered.

"What? How?"

"My bag, the one I dropped at the cannery. There were pictures of the town inside. They found my bag … found the town … found a way in."

"You don't know that for sure," Daryl said.

"I killed one of them. Stabbed him. He was laying on something. I picked it up. It was my bag. The photos were still in it." For the first time since they reunited, Aaron looked Daryl in the eyes. "Half the town is dead. Eric is dead. Carl might be … and it's my fault."

"Hey, it's not your fault. People like that are going to find a way in no matter what. You can't beat yourself up for this." Daryl reached for Aaron again, but he backed away.

"You weren't here. You and Rick, all the others, you went off and left us vulnerable. You were supposed to be back that evening. It's been days, Daryl, days, and look at this place."

"You trying to blame me now?" Daryl countered angrily. "You blaming Rick? If it wasn't for us, there would have been thousands more walkers here. This place would be leveled to the ground." He slid off of the examine table and got in Aaron's face. "Man, what do you think I was doing out there? I was shot at, taken hostage, I lost my bike and my crossbow trying to help some dumb fucks that I should have known better than to get involved with. Then I was held at gunpoint by a bunch of bikers who tried to take the rest of my stuff. They were going to kill Sasha and Abe. Fuck! I got stabbed in the shoulder taking one of them out. Blew the rest up to save Sasha and Abraham. Then I come home and find this place ruined. Fucking walkers all over the place. And you want to blame me? Fuck you!" Without waiting for a response, Daryl marched out of the infirmary. He paced the front porch a few times, and then plopped down on one of the steps.

Aaron still stood where he was. He knew better than to go after Daryl. He didn't know why he said the things he said, but he was very confused at the moment. Too much tragedy surrounded him, and he couldn't take it all in at one time. He was mad at himself, feeling guilty. Daryl was an easy target right then, and Aaron needed to share the blame somehow. He looked across the room to where Carl and Rick were. Rick was sitting in a chair by the bed, holding Carl's hand. Carl's head was bandaged up. He still hadn't woken up since he was hurt. Denise mentioned she feared he might be in shock or in a coma. Only time would tell.

Aaron walked over and stood next to Rick. They were silent for a while, watching Carl take slow but steady breaths. Eventually, Rick turned his head to the side, although his head was still bowed. "I heard you talking to Daryl," he said in a raspy voice. Rick shook his head slowly back and forth. "It's not your fault, Aaron. And it's not Daryl's fault. Things happen. Daryl's right. Those people would have found a way in no matter what."

"It might have taken them longer to find this place if it wasn't for the pictures."

Rick shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Eventually, they would have come across Alexandria. They won't be the last either. We have something that everyone else wants, and that makes us a target. But I was wrong to think that my people and I were the only ones who knew how to protect Alexandria. I saw how everyone came together when it mattered, and now I know that it's going to take all of us to keep this place safe. There is no 'my people' and 'your people'. We are 'us'. We are one. We are all Alexandrians now."

* * *

Eventually Aaron would go home, but first, someone brought him to the cemetary. The graves had been prepared, the bodies carefully wrapped in blankets, and each one lowered into its place. Jesse, Ron and Sam were buried next to Pete. Mrs. Neudermyer was buried next to some of the women from her bridge club. They had all been friends. And under a tree another grave had been prepared, Eric's blanketed body positioned next to the opened earth. Two men, who had been burying the bodies, started to pick Eric up, but Aaron stopped them. "I'll do it," he said. He jumped down into the hole and the men helped put Eric in his arms. Aaron struggled under Eric's weight, but he managed to lower him into the grave. He gently lowered Eric until he was able to lay him down. Tears splashed onto the dirty blanket, soaking up dust where they fell. Aaron made sure the body was positioned right, knowing this was Eric's final resting place.

"Goodbye, Eric," Aaron uttered, his voice cracking with fatigue and sorrow. He stood another moment, looking down at the covered body, and said a prayer. "Alright," Aaron said to the men standing at the edge of the grave, ready for them to give him a hand out of the hole. When he looked up, Daryl was standing there with his hand extended. Aaron looked at the strong, rough hand a moment. Then he griped it tight, and Daryl helped him up. The two men stood by, shovels in their hands, ready to finish the job. Aaron looked at Daryl. "Thank you," he whispered, and Daryl nodded. Their recent exchange had been heated, but now they acted as though it never happened. Burying Eric was more important. Being there for each other in a time of need ruled over petty emotions.

One of the men stepped forward and handed Aaron a folded up piece of paper. "We found his in his pocket. Thought you would want it."

Aaron didn't have to unfold it to know what it was. It was the black and white photo of Aaron and Eric.

"Do you want to–" one of the men gestured with his shovel.

Aaron shook his head. "No, that's alright." The man nodded and both started shoveling dirt into the grave. Aaron watched the blanket become covered with dirt, but just before he couldn't see it anymore, he tossed the picture into the grave. "This belongs with him."

Daryl stood right next to Aaron, but he remained silent. This was Aaron's closure. This was his time to grieve. Daryl wouldn't interrupt him, but he would always be there for him as long as he still had life in his body and a breath left in his lungs.

When dirt covered the blanket completely, Aaron grasped Daryl's arm and gave a tug. "I'm ready. Let's go."

They walked slowly towards their house, carefully stepping around corpses. "It all seems so surreal," Aaron said after a long silence. "I never imagined this kind of horror could find its way inside the walls. It's feels like … I don't know, like … Have you ever had your car stolen and gotten it back after the cops found it? You get inside and see the steering column messed up, the glove box ransacked, things missing out of the back seat. You know someone else was in your car, and you get this sense of a violation of personal space, kind of like it's been ruined or something. It feels wrong somehow. That's how Alexandria feels to me right now, and I don't know if it will ever feel as homey as it once did."

"Yeah, I get what you mean, except I was the guy who probably stole your car," Daryl said to try to lighten the mood. Aaron gave a half smile.

"Do you think it will ever get back to normal here?" he asked Daryl as they approached their home.

"I do," Daryl said with confidence. "We will make it great again. I don't doubt that one bit. Of course, there will always be reminders. That's what makes us smarter and stronger for the next time."

"The next time?" Aaron wondered.

"We've got something here that others are willing to fight us for. No one can be trusted out there anymore. If another group comes at us again, we'll be prepared," Daryl explained.

Aaron was a little put off by Daryl's comment. Before everything went haywire, he and Daryl were recruiters for the town. "So, what are you saying? You don't want to bring new people in anymore?"

"I think the people we have here now are all we need. Everyone has a job and a place. We'll make this a great place to live after we clean up the mess."

Aaron huffed cynically. "You didn't used to think that way. You're starting to sound like Rick. What changed your mind?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes and looked towards the section of wall that displayed the names of the fallen townspeople. "I tried helping and got shitted on." He shook his head. "No more."

Aaron wondered what happened to Daryl out there, but there would be time to talk about it later. All either one wanted to do was go home, but when they got there, it was an unpleasant sight. Dead corpses littered the street, blood was smeared on the steps and railing of their porch. The flowers planted in the landscaping were all trampled flat. It was a complete mess. Fortunately, when they walked inside the house, it was clean and untouched. Nothing had gotten inside. It looked the same as it had the last time they were there.

Daryl walked to the stairs and stopped. "I'm gonna take a shower." He started to ascend the stairs but Aaron called to him.

"Hey, I'm glad you're home."

Daryl came back down and went to Aaron, standing before him. "Me too. I missed you. I was worried for you."

"I was worried about you too, especially when you didn't come back." Aaron cupped the back of his neck and bowed his head. "Listen, I was a jerk earlier in the infirmary. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blame you for anything."

Daryl took Aaron's chin in his fingers and lifted his head until their eyes met. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have yelled at you and stormed out."

Their eyes locked on each other, and the tension of the past few days started to disintegrate. They looked past the dried blood and dirt, and remembered exactly what existed between them. Slowly, they closed the distance between them, and a rush of emotions took over. Daryl pulled Aaron to him and they kissed, carefully at first, and then more eagerly. Neither man was sure how the other would react at this point, so soon after such devastation. They realized that no matter what had happened, they still needed each other to heal.

They held each other and kissed feverishly, hands roaming to undo buttons. Aaron had Daryl's shirt half way undone, but Daryl stopped him. Aaron looked at him with confusion at first. Daryl shook his head. "Not like this," Daryl said and made a disgusted face. "We need to get cleaned up first."

Aaron took Daryl's hand and pulled him towards the stairs. "Come on then. We'll shower together."

They climbed the stairs, unable to keep their hands to themselves. Aaron went in the bathroom first and instantly turned on the water in the shower. Then they resumed undressing each other, kissing and touching in the process until they were stripped free of their clothes. Instantly, Aaron noticed the horrible wounds on Daryl's arm and hip. He paused and looked on in concern.

"What happened?" Aaron asked, careful not to touch him there.

"Road rash," Daryl said. "Laid my bike down. I'll tell you about it later."

Aaron nodded and continued manipulating Daryl, and took his hand to lead him into the shower, but Daryl stopped him. "Are you sure about this? I mean, I want to, but you … it hasn't been long since . . ."

"I've been surrounded by so much death recently. I can't think about it anymore. I need to feel alive, and I'm never more alive than when I'm with you." Aaron pulled Daryl with him into the shower.

The hot water stung Daryl's wounds. He only flinched lightly, but he mostly ignored the pain. Instead, he picked up the soap and started lathering his hands. Then he handed the soap to Aaron, who did the same.

"We look a damn mess, don't we?" Daryl commented.

"Yeah, but I don't care. You're here." Aaron kissed him with gentle lips. "There were times when I thought this would never happen again. I was so scared for you. Thank God you're alright."

The dirt was washing from their faces. Daryl brushed his hand over Aaron's cheek, and looked longingly into his eyes. "I made you a promise. I said I'd be back, and as long as I have breath in my lungs, I'll be here." He kissed Aaron with slow passion, but it quickly escalated. The water was washing away days of sweat, blood and fear. Things might be a mess out there, but in here, life was getting back to normal again. Tongues twisting, lips tasting, Daryl and Aaron held on to each other as if to never let go. Their bodies rubbed against each other, further heightening their desire.

Without saying a word, Aaron turned his back to Daryl and pushed up against him. Daryl's hands roamed over Aaron's hips, reached around and cupped his ready cock. He gave a delighted moan in Aaron's ear, the vibrations exciting him even more. Aaron braced his hands on the shower wall and gave himself to Daryl. Daryl pushed himself within the warmth and let out a long breathy sigh of relief. He threw his head back, letting the hot water splash on his face. Then he looked down and watched himself as he set his pace. He pulled Aaron against him so he could taste the warm flesh … so alive, Daryl thought.

"I want to stay buried in you forever," Daryl whispered into Aaron's ear. "When I'm with you, everything else just melts away."

Aaron threw his head back onto Daryl's shoulder, and his hands reached for Daryl's hips, pulling him closer with every pump. "Yeah," he agreed wholeheartedly.

Daryl's rhythm increased as did his breathing. Aaron was coming around fast. His cock was pulsating in Daryl's hand, balls tightening getting ready for release. "Ah, Aaron … fuck, you feel good."

"Make me come, Daryl. I want all of you … hard … deep," Aaron begged.

Daryl's fingers dug into Aaron's hips as he slammed into him. Aaron leaned forward and bowed his head. His hands braced the wall. He was spread, taking everything Daryl was giving him. It was a little rough without proper lube, but the water was slicking them just enough. The pain was good. It was euphoric. It meant they were alive and conscious. They had something normal, even if it was just for a few moments. They could still celebrate life and love. That was something that wouldn't change. They had one another in all this chaos that surrounded them, and it was enough to keep them going.

They came together, crying out with passionate moans, shuttering against each other, feeling the warmth, the pulse of life that connected them. Daryl moved them so Aaron was standing upright against the wall, and Daryl covered his body. He stayed in this position, softening within, which was the best feeling in the world. The water was hot, and the steam surrounded them like a cocoon. They were clean and satisfied, and relieved to be together again.

Eventually, they turned the water off and climbed out of the shower. Daryl handed Aaron a towel before he got his own. They dried off, taking turns drying each other's backs. Then, Daryl pulled Aaron to him and buried his face in Aaron's shoulder. Their arms surrounded one another, and they just held each other for a moment. Daryl picked his head up and kissed Aaron. "I wanna tell you I'll never leave you again, but I know that's a promise I can't keep."

"You just make sure you always come home. That's all you need to do," Aaron smiled against his lips. "I love you."

"Mmph," Daryl moaned. "I love you too."

* * *

There was a lot of work to do, and it would take a long time to accomplish it, but Aaron and Daryl were too exhausted to continue on with the day ahead of them. Aaron looked out of their second story bedroom window, and he saw some people starting the cleanup.

Daryl went to him, putting his hands on Aaron's shoulders. "We don't need to worry about that yet."

"Yeah, but–"

"No one is expecting us to jump in and start fixing things. I think we all need a moment to regroup and recharge. It was a long night. Come on." Daryl pulled Aaron to their bed, and coaxed him into laying down. They settled beneath the covers, laying silently next to each other, each man consumed by his own thoughts.

Aaron gave a deep sigh, tired of rehashing the same things over and over in his mind. All he kept thinking was, 'Was there more I could have done?'

"Hey, you alright?" Daryl said at his side.

Aaron rolled towards him. "I am now. So, you gonna tell me what happened out there?"

"We were leading the herd, just like we planned. And then that horn went off," Daryl started.

"That was a truck that the Wolves crashed into the tower. Guess the horn got stuck," Aaron explained.

Daryl nodded. "Well, Rick went back for the RV. He was going to use it to lead the back half away from town. That didn't go well, I see."

"He couldn't get it started, and the herd was closing in on him. Rick got out just before he was surrounded. Ran all the way back to town, too. He's a tough son of a bitch."

"Yeah he is," Daryl said, thinking of all the times they had saved each other's asses. "He was on the radio, telling me about Glenn and Michonne's plans to get the rest of the group back to town. They got trapped by part of the herd. And then I heard a gun go off, and yelling." Daryl paused and breathed deep, letting it out slowly. "You know, after that horn sounded, all I wanted to do was fly back here as fast as my bike would go. I kept thinking that it was a signal for help. Rick was the one who stopped me. He said if I went back, I was doing it for myself, but if I stayed with the herd, I was doing it for the town … and you were a part of the town. I didn't care about anyone but you. You were all I cared about, and if that had been your signal to me, and Rick stopped me . . ."

"It wasn't me, though, and at that point we were all safe behind the walls."

"You don't understand, Aaron. It took every fiber of my being not to come back. I knew it was best to stay with Sasha and Abraham, but just the thought of something happening to you, and I wasn't there to help drove me to the edge."

"You did the right thing," Aaron said to ease Daryl's mind.

Daryl sat up and reached for a pack of smokes that he kept on the nightstand. There were only two cigarettes left, and one of them had broken in half. He was saving them for when he really needed one. He opened the box and fingered the crooked cigarettes. "I turned back. I was coming home."

"You did?" Aaron said, surprised that he'd done it.

Daryl gave a nod and pulled a cigarette out of the box. "There was a turnoff, and I knew if I followed the road, it would lead back to Alexandria. If I hurried, I could avoid the herd. Sasha and Abraham were in the car telling me not to do it. They told me that Rick was right, to go back would be out of selfishness, but I didn't care. I'd be a selfish prick if it meant knowing you were alright."

"What happened? What made you change your mind and stick with the plan?" Aaron asked curiously.

"I stopped and tried to reach Rick over the radio, but there was no answer. I didn't know what happened to him. Then I thought about what he said, you know, reacting for my own satisfaction and not for the good of everyone else. He was right … again. He usually is. I could go back to Alexandria. I might find Rick. I might not. I might find the town in ruins or the herd biting at the walls. I knew that whatever was happening, you and everyone else would deal with it because you're strong and smart. It was half the herd, which was still a lot, but … if the front half made their way to the town too, that was on me because I abandoned the plan. It was the hardest decision I had to make in a while, to go back and find out if you were alright, or to hope you were and continue with the plan. The whole time I didn't know if it was the right choice, but it seemed like the logical one. So I turned around and rushed back to join Sasha and Abraham. We did our job and completed the mission."

Aaron moved closer to Daryl, needing to feel his warmth beneath the covers. He thought about their reunion at the infirmary, how he got upset with Daryl for not being there. "And there I was complaining that you weren't with us. Now I really feel like shit."

"You shouldn't. You were angry, upset. For God's sake, you just watched Eric–" Daryl stopped before he said anything more. "We both said things we didn't mean. That's what happens in the heat of the moment. The important thing is that you're here and I'm here. The town is still standing, even though it's damaged. We're going to be fine."

Aaron kissed his shoulder and squeezed his arm. "I know we are. And once we've repaired this place and gotten things back together, we'll start recruiting again. We'll rebuild our numbers and–"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Daryl interrupted.

"What? You've always supported recruiting."

Daryl shook his head as he stared up at the ceiling. "There's bad people out there."

"There's always been–"

"More than you might think," Daryl interrupted.

Aaron watched his face, studied the lack of hope in his eyes. "What happened?" he simply asked.

Daryl didn't answer right away. He seemed lost in thought, trying to determine whether he'd made good decisions or not. "You've always told me to try. That's all any of us can do. You remember the first time you said that to me?"

Aaron smiled. "Of course. You were outside of Deanna's house, and that dinner party was going on inside. You were just standing there, conflict in your face. You'd cleaned up and changed clothes, but I could see that you really didn't want to deal with anyone or anything."

"And you told me, at least I tried, even if I couldn't go inside." Daryl smiled and turned his head so he could see Aaron out of the corner of his eye. "I always remembered that. I'd been raised to think that trying was not an option. That trying without succeeding was failure. With just a few words, you somehow made it ok. I believed you and ever since then I have always at the very least tried." Daryl stopped and turned on his side so that he and Aaron were face to face. "I was on my own out there, and I came across some people … a guy and a couple girls. They didn't trust me and I didn't trust them. At one point we needed each other, so we tried. They helped me and then I helped them, and I thought of what you would have done. You would have told them about Alexandria. You would have brought them in. Then one of the girls got bit, and it was just the two of them. There was something about the way they acted. They were scared, really scared. I felt that it was up to me to help them, to bring them in. I thought I was making the right choice. But they screwed me. Not only that, they took everything from me and left me with nothing. I let my guard down to help them, and they took advantage of me. They got my bike and my bow, but worst of all, they stole what little trust I had left in humanity. I don't trust no one, not anymore. The people inside these walls are it. I ain't letting my guard down for no one ever again."

Aaron sat up on his elbow and looked down at Daryl. "We can't be that way. We still have to have faith that there are good people out there that need our help. They need us to bring them in and save them from the bad people. If we stop looking, we'll never grow as a community. We'll become stagnate and weak." Aaron shook his head in disagreement. "I'm sorry, Daryl, but I think you're wrong about this."

"How can you think that way, especially after everything that happened here?" Daryl argued. "People came in and killed our own. They tore down the wall and let walkers in. They destroyed everything we worked so hard for … and they didn't even want our town. They just wanted to kill. So how can you sit there and say you still have faith in anyone on the outside?"

"I'm not saying there aren't bad people, but I think the good outweigh the bad, and they deserve the same chance we have. Hell, there might even be another place out there full of good people like the ones we have here in Alexandria," Aaron countered.

"You don't believe that, do you?" Daryl asked accusingly.

By now, Aaron was sitting up on his side of the bed. He swung his legs over the edge, and picked up his khaki pants, putting them on in a rush. "Just like planets in outer space, we can't be the only inhabitable place." He stood up, zipped his pants and reached for his shirt, which he put on in a hurry. "I'm not ready to give up on humanity," he said quietly. "And I'm not ready to stop looking for survivors." He walked to the bedroom door and started to leave.

"Hey, where you going?" Daryl asked from the bed.

"I'm going to help with the cleanup. Come or not, I don't care." Aaron exited the room leaving Daryl confused by their heated conversation.

Why the hell did Aaron get pissed off by Daryl's opinion? Daryl sat up in bed and shook his head. "Fuck," he muttered, and ran his fingers through his messy hair. He didn't know why it was such a big deal. They had been the town's recruiters since Daryl first showed up in Alexandria. They had brought people in. They did their job, and now they were rightfully owed a break from the life. With everything that happened, they needed time to regroup, and Daryl was beginning to think that Rick not wanting to bring new people in was a good idea. There were enough people in Alexandria as it was, and even though their numbers were down significantly, Daryl thought they were better off to train the people left rather than look for new blood. He thought about his recent experience, and he realized that he'd let his guard down when he decided to try and take those people in. In the process, Daryl was robbed and left vulnerable. His trust was shattered, his pride hurt, and he'd be damned if he was going to let that happen again.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31 Dissension**

Alexandria was finally getting back to normal. The damaged part of the wall was fixed, and new areas were being built. Crops were planted and off to a good start. An area for livestock was coming along nicely, though they didn't have the animals to fill the space just yet. The people of the town felt safe once more, but they were all a little more aware and alert of their surroundings. Although life there was on the rebound, there was still a lot of work to do before it would be self sustaining again. Winter was in the back of everyone's mind. The crops would come in just in time, but it wouldn't be enough to sustain the entire town throughout the winter months. Because of this, scouts still went out to scavenge for anything they could find. Food and medical supplies were top priority, of course, and Heath and Tara had been rather successful. Rick felt it might be better to have more people out scouting for supplies so that they could keep ahead of demand. There were plenty of other people who would have gone out, but Rick had been inside the walls for the past two months, and he needed to get away for a bit. It was difficult to let the outside world completely go. He needed a reminder every once in a while.

Daryl and Aaron's relationship had been a bit strained since the day the tower fell. They didn't see eye to eye about recruiting anymore. Aaron felt they still needed to bring good people in, but Daryl had lost all trust of outsiders. They decided not to discuss their different opinions too much, but sometimes it couldn't be avoided. Aaron was still grieving the loss of Eric, and that was another burden between the men. Daryl gave Aaron his space when it came to that. He didn't feel it was his place to get involved, especially since Daryl and Eric never really got along. If Aaron needed to bend an ear, Daryl would listen, but he'd give no advice. It wouldn't have come out of his mouth right. He might sound mean or uncaring. No one was there for Daryl when he grieved for his brother or for Beth. Carol had been closest to him, but even so, he wasn't good at opening up to anyone.

Aaron, on the other hand, had no problem reminiscing about past days. Everyday, something would remind him of Eric, or a situation they had been in. Sometimes it was a good memory, sometimes not. But what was always at the forefront of Aaron's mind was a promise he made, and one that Daryl couldn't agree with. It was the reason for many of their arguments. Usually, Aaron would try to avoid talking about it, but he was getting tired of being inside the walls all the time. Aaron needed to get out and do some good in the world. He made his argument, knowing that Daryl would once again disagree, but he was willing to risk it. Aaron heard that Heath and Tara were going on a run soon, and he wanted to join them. He was ready, but was Daryl ready to let him go?

"What do you want to go out there for?" Daryl complained when Aaron made his case.

"Because I'm not ready to give up on finding people," Aaron countered. He'd been prepared for this discussion for a while.

"Well, I found people and I'm telling you there ain't no good ones left in the world." Daryl stood up from the dining room table and moved to the open kitchen. He adjusted the knives in the butcher's block and pushed a couple coffee mugs around. The need to do something with his hands besides shake sense into Aaron was annoying.

"So that's it? You're done with recruiting. You're done looking for people who need our help," Aaron said accusingly.

"Yep," Daryl answered tersely.

Aaron picked up his fork and pushed around the beans he wasn't hungry for, speaking softly into his plate. "I suppose you don't think we'll find other communities either."

Daryl heard him and stopped fidgeting. He turned his head to the side without actually looking at Aaron. "Since when did you start believing that?"

"I've never not believed it. I just never pursued the thought. We've been all over, at least it feels that way, and we never came across any other communities."

"What makes you so sure now?" Daryl said, his voice low and gravelly.

"I guess I still have hope that we're not the only place left in the world." Aaron pushed his plate away and stood from the table. "I'm just not through looking yet. Do what you want, but I still want to go." Aaron picked up his plate and took it into the sink. He looked at the plate of beans, undecided about what to do with them. Since the attack a couple months ago, food had become a concern. Their supplies were running low because they had exhausted most of the places where they scavenged. Crops had been planted, but it would be a while before there would be anything. Throwing away a plate of cold beans seemed like a waste. Aaron opted for putting them in the fridge.

Daryl stood across the room and watched Aaron. "This is about Eric, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aaron said nervously.

"Cut the crap, Aaron. Ever since … you know–"

"I don't want to talk about it," Aaron rejected.

"That's part of the problem. You never want to talk about it. Listen, I know it was bad. I know you've had a hard time, but–"

"No, you don't know," Aaron said angrily. He didn't mean to raise his voice.

"Man, that's bullshit," Daryl yelled. "I've been where you are, and more than once too. I carry around the same guilt. It haunts me almost every day. I'm constantly asking myself if I did enough. So don't tell me I don't know."

"If you know, then why don't you just let me grieve in my own way?" Aaron yelled back.

"Because you have to move on from it. The guilt … that never goes away. Yeah, it fades some, but it is always there. Hindsight it a fucking bitch, and if you let it control you, it will destroy you down to your soul. You have to keep telling yourself that it wasn't your fault, and those maniacs would have come whether they found those pictures or not."

"That doesn't matter. The fact is they did find them and they came. They knew the layout of this place in advance, and now people are dead. That's on me," Aaron said quietly.

Daryl stood leaning with his back against the counter, arms crossed watching Aaron through his long hair. There was no point going any further with the conversation. They would just go around in circles. Aaron would continue to blame himself, and Daryl would try to talk him out of it. "You know what? We all grieve in our own way. So do what you gotta do. Blame who you gotta blame." Daryl started to leave the kitchen, but Aaron stopped him.

"You were right," Aaron said. Daryl waited for him to go on. "About Eric … or this being about him." Aaron turned to face Daryl, but he didn't move towards him. He stayed by the sink. "He always believed there were others out there, and I always blew him off." Aaron went back to the fridge and took out the plate of beans. "Even before Alison, he would talk about it. Every recruiting run, he would get his hopes up."

"Why? Did he want to leave Alexandria or something?" Daryl asked.

"Not at first. He just needed to know we weren't the last, I think. But no matter how much he talked about it, I ignored him or I told him he was being ridiculous. I'd laugh it off and change the subject. It didn't faze him though. He kept on hoping." Aaron turned to the garbage can and dumped the beans into it. He stood there a moment, staring into the can before he spoke again. "The last thing he said to me was that he wanted me to keep looking, even as he laid there dying." Aaron shook his head. "I can't let that go. I promised him I'd do it." Aaron turned back to Daryl and looked at him from across the room. "You can't tell me not to do this. It's between me and Eric."

Daryl shifted his stance and cocked his head to the side. Every part of him was telling him to support Aaron, but his obduracy often took place of cooperativeness. "I ain't going up against your ghosts. You're putting a promise to a dead man before someone who is here now, alive and concerned about you. You want me out of your way then fine. I got my own agenda." He pushed himself away from the counter and left the kitchen, headed for the front door.

"Daryl, please," Aaron called out. "I didn't mean for it to seem that way. Don't be like–"

"I gotta meet Rick," Daryl interrupted, and he left.

Aaron sighed and shook his head. What was happening to them? They had always agreed. They had always fought together, but now … this difference in opinion … it was pushing them further and further apart.

He turned his attention back to the garbage can, and stared down at the beans. "Why does he have to be such a difficult prick?" More guilt was piling on, not just for Eric or the townspeople who died, but for Daryl, for pushing him away. He couldn't help it right now. Aaron felt as though he needed to wallow in misery for a while. He thought he deserved it. Maybe later he could begin to forgive himself, but not now.

His mind turned to the food he just wasted. "I shouldn't have done that," he said to himself. It was foolish to throw it away. There was nothing wrong with it. He was just tired of eating beans. But that meal might end up being the difference between starving and one more day. There was nothing to do about it now, so Aaron left the kitchen and turned the lights out as he went. With nothing else to do at the moment, he decided to go to bed.

Aaron laid awake for a long time, waiting for Daryl to come back from his meeting with Rick, but now his eyelids were becoming heavy. He gave in to sleep, and figured he'd wake up when Daryl finally came home and got under the covers.

When Aaron woke up, the sun had risen already. The first thing he did was check the opposite side of the bed, but it was empty. Daryl hadn't come home last night. Aaron sat up right away, threw his legs over the side of the bed, slid his feet into his slippers and stood. His heart began to pound with worry over the whereabouts of Daryl. Why wouldn't he come home, Aaron asked himself as he descended the stairs. When he got to the bottom and looked in the living room, he saw a blanket and a pillow on the couch, but Daryl wasn't there. He must have already started his day. Probably wanted to leave before Aaron got up so they wouldn't have to battle through another argument. At least he came home, although he never came upstairs. Aaron shook his head with disappointment. Why was Daryl being this way? What was happening to their relationship?

* * *

Often Aaron would wander down to the graveyard and spend a couple hours at Eric's grave. He found comfort there amongst the makeshift cemetery. The headstones were made of wood, the names of the deceased written in permanent marker. It wasn't what they deserved, but it was all that was available.

Aaron had gone to the cemetary after a quick cup of coffee and a piece of stale bread. Shouldn't have thrown those beans away, he berated himself. He stopped and picked a few wildflowers before continuing on his way. Once he arrived at the gravesite, he placed the flowers at the foot of the wood board that marked Eric's grave. Then he sat down on the new grass that covered the area, crossed his legs and looked up at the bright blue sky.

"It's your favorite time of the year," Aaron said with a smile. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on his face. "You always said the summer reminded you of trips to the beach with your family when you were young. Those were good days, you told me once." Aaron tilted his head back down and looked at Eric's name. The black letters were beginning to fade, and he made a mental note to redraw it. Either that or find some paint and a paintbrush. That would last longer, and Aaron could do it for all the headstones. His mind's brief detour didn't last long, and his thoughts came back to Daryl.

"I know you probably wouldn't want to hear about my problems when you were alive, so now you've got no choice but to listen," Aaron laughed to himself. His smile quickly faded. "Things haven't been so good between Daryl and me. I want to find more people and he doesn't. He's lost what little trust he had. Something got to him out there when he was alone. Something really messed him up, set him back to a time when he didn't trust anyone. He told me what happened, how he lost his bike and his crossbow, but I think it goes deeper than that. He said he tried to bring a couple people back with him and they screwed him over. I think it's more than that, but he won't go into any details. Daryl's stubborn like that, you know."

Aaron thought about their argument in the infirmary, how he blamed Daryl for not being there when the town really needed him. "I was a prick," he said. Aaron picked at the blades of longer grass poking up around his ankles, his hands needed to keep busy as he investigated his thoughts. "I just don't know what's happening. A lot of things have gone down, and it hasn't been easy to adjust to the changes. You, for example." He paused and shifted his weight. "I still expect to see you as I walk down the road. I pass your house and wait to see you come running out to say hello, but you're not there. You're here. You shouldn't be here, and I can't help but to feel some responsibility for that. Everyone tells me it's not my fault. Daryl starts to get mad at me. He thinks I need to move on, and maybe I do, but I can't help feeling this way. I want to make things right. I want to start recruiting again. We lost a lot of good people, including you. Alexandria's numbers need to be rebuilt. It's the only way to make sure we have a future. Deanna would have wanted us to go out there, just like old times. No one else gets it."

"I get it," someone said, startling Aaron. He turned to find Maggie standing behind him, and he jumped to his feet.

"Maggie. Hey, I didn't know you were here," he smiled as he spoke.

She smiled back and glanced down at Eric's grave. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"No, no. It's alright. I was just … talking … you know … to–" he stammered.

Maggie laid a comforting hand on his arm. "I know. I used to do that too. M-My sister … when she … in the beginning. I was always conferring with her, one-sidedly. I still do sometimes." She walked forward and stood at Eric's marker. "I was coming to pay my respects and heard you talking." She paused and looked back at Aaron. "You're right to want to find new people. I was just agreeing with you. And yes, Deanna would have wanted it this way."

"Unfortunately, not everyone agrees. Rick, Daryl … they don't think we should go looking anymore."

"They're just scared right now, but give them time, and I think they'll come around."

Aaron nodded. "And I'm not blind to how it is out there. I know there are bad people. There always have been, even before the outbreak. I think there's a lot more now, people who have lost their way, lost their humanity. They've learned to survive a different way. They are empowered by fear, not hope."

"Do you think Daryl is like that?" she asked.

"I don't think it's fear that is driving him. Lack of trust, yeah."

"It's like that for a lot of us now, especially since everything that happened a couple months ago. What you have to remember is that you both see things differently, and you can't make him think your way nor can he make you agree with him. You are both right in this situation, and you both have to find a common ground, respect each other's opinions."

"Is it like that for you and Glenn?" Aaron asked. "Do you disagree a lot?"

Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "Sometimes. We work through it, though. We communicate. That's the most important thing in a solid, lasting relationship."

Aaron huffed a laugh. "You make it sound as if we're married."

"It's no different, really. You're committed to each other, right?"

Aaron nodded. "I like to think so. I'm sure of it."

"Compromise, that's all it takes," Maggie assured him.

"And if Daryl can't do that?" Aaron asked.

Maggie smiled. "Then send him to me and I'll knock some sense into him. I've known Daryl for a long time now, and I can see through his hard outer shell." She walked towards Aaron and hugged him. "It'll work out."

"Thanks," Aaron whispered as they separated. "Oh hey," he said with enthusiasm, realizing he forgot to inquire about the baby. "How's little Aaron … or Erin?" He thought she looked a little uncomfortable with his name for the baby. "I didn't mean to say that's what you're going to call the baby or anything. I was just–"

"It's alright, Aaron. Actually, Glenn and I have decided not to think about names too much. We're going to wait until the baby is here to decide." Maggie held her hand to her stomach and looked down with a loving smile. "He or she is fine, I guess. It's too soon to tell. I mean, I don't feel any different yet, and it's too early to show." She stopped and looked disappointed. "I wish I could see … you know … like with an ultrasound … how it used to be … before." She stopped again, but this time she gave a small smile to hide her worry. "However, there is the morning sickness, and it's not just mornings."

"I've heard that's a good thing. Means everything is progressing as it should," he said with enthusiasm.

She nodded and looked back at the markers. "Are you staying?"

"No, I think I've said all I have to say for now." Aaron held out his arm to her and she wrapped hers around his.

"Next time, try talking to Daryl instead. Ok?"

"Yeah, I will," he agreed.

* * *

Later in the day, Aaron went to find Tara and Heath. He wanted to ask them if he could go with them to scavenge. He was feeling rebellious after he thought about his argument with Daryl that morning, and decided he'd just leave with them. Let Daryl worry, he thought. Besides, Daryl told him to do what he needed to do, and Aaron didn't need anyone's permission.

He showed up at the pantry where Tara and Heath usually met before they headed out. They would collect enough supplies to last them a while, and stock up on weapons and ammo. Then they would grab a car and get on their way. If he was lucky, they'd still be there. But when Aaron got to the pantry, Olivia told him they had already left. They decided to get an earlier start than usual. Aaron missed his opportunity to be defiant.

"I was going to see if I could go with them," Aaron said disappointedly.

"Oh. Well, if it's any consolation, they're only going for a couple days. They're waiting to go on a longer run next week. Maybe you can go with them then," Olivia informed him.

Aaron perked up at this information. "Good. Sounds good. Thanks, Olivia."

Aaron heard him before he saw him. He recognized the sound of his footsteps, and it surprised Aaron that he knew Daryl that well. It made his heart race, something he hadn't felt in a while. He missed that.

"Going somewhere?" Daryl asked before Aaron turned around to see him standing there.

Aaron pretended to organize a shelf of canned goods, but he was really just pushing cans around so that all the labels were facing the same direction. "Yeah," he answered confidently. "I was going to go on a run with Tara and Heath. I didn't know they set out already."

"So you were just going to leave without telling me?" Daryl asked.

"Someone would have told you," Aaron responded with a quiet voice. "Besides, after this morning, I thought it would be best if–"

"Don't," Daryl said, a bit of pleading in his tone. He glanced at Olivia, who seemed very uncomfortable caught in the middle of their argument.

She got the message and smiled nervously. "I, uh, I have something to do … somewhere … I'm sure." She scooted past them and left the pantry.

Aaron finished lining up cans on one shelf, and reached for the cans on the one below, moving them around in no particular order. As he tried to avoid any argumentative conversation, he noticed that there was a can of peas sitting with the green beans, and started to pick it up. Daryl placed his hand over Aaron's to stop him.

"Stop," Daryl said in a gentle whisper. "Talk to me. Please?"

"I don't want to argue anymore," Aaron told him. "I … I can't."

"I don't want to either," Daryl admitted. He pulled Aaron's hand away from the shelf, and held it at his chest. "Listen, I've been thinking, and I know you've been wanting to go out there, so … let's go."

Aaron turned and looked up at Daryl, questioning his motive. "To recruit?" Aaron asked.

Daryl's head bobbed back and forth before he answered. "Not actually. I mean … just you and me. Let's get away from here for a little bit."

Aaron already knew what Daryl meant by that. "The cabin?" he asked.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, his dark eyes hidden by the long hair hanging in his face. "No interruptions. No Alexandria. It's our place, you know, our sanctuary, and I think we need this right now."

"Daryl," Aaron said, shaking his head back and forth. "We can't find common ground here. What makes you think a retreat at the cabin is going to–"

Daryl reached for the back of Aaron's head, and pulled him in, kissing him into silence. He could feel Aaron give in slightly, and it excited Daryl to know he could still control Aaron to a degree. When they separated, Daryl captured him with a smoldering gaze. "I know you want this too. Stop trying to deny it." He kissed Aaron again, hard and demanding. Daryl released him and watched Aaron take a moment to gather himself. Daryl's lip curled into a seductive smile. "Meet me in an hour. Pack for a few days," he said, and then left the pantry.

Aaron stood unmoving as he watched Daryl walk out of the garage. Suddenly, he remembered to breath. He knew what Daryl was up to. He'd take Aaron to the cabin, make love to him, sway him into agreeing with him. "I shouldn't go," Aaron said to himself, but he knew he would be at the gate before an hour was up.

* * *

When Daryl arrived, Aaron was already there, backpack slung over his back, a knife at his belt and a shotgun on his shoulder. He wore a denim shirt and his blue jacket. It looked like he shaved too. Daryl pulled a car up next to Aaron and got out. He watched Aaron carefully from across the rusted roof of the car, sexy narrowed eyes trained on him. Aaron could feel his stare, and avoided looking at Daryl directly. He knew the game, and found it difficult to resist.

"Someone know were heading out?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah, and about how long we'll be gone. We got a few days before they start thinking about sending out a search party," Daryl informed jokingly.

"What did you tell them?" Aaron wondered. No one but Caleb knew about the cabin.

"I said that you talked me into a run to look for survivors," Daryl told him.

That surprised Aaron, because Daryl wasn't the type who wanted people to know when he'd been talked into something he didn't agree with, even when it was just a story. "So you lied," Aaron said, as he opened the back door and tossed his pack on the seat.

"Maybe you'll persuade me," Daryl said, making Aaron stop and look at him from the other side of the car.

Aaron couldn't help laugh a single huff as he observed Daryl. He shook his head. "What has gotten into you?"

"You really need me to answer that?" Daryl replied with an impish grin.

It had been a long time since Daryl seemed relaxed enough to be in such a playful mood. Aaron liked it when Daryl was like this. He didn't know how long it would last, though. Eventually the same subject of their differences would come up, and it always turned into an argument that ended with someone walking away. Perhaps that was the reason for the cabin. There would be nowhere to go.

As they made their way, they were quiet. Daryl kept his eyes trained on the road. Aaron watched for walkers wandering into the road or people who might need help. They didn't see any people, and only witnessed a few small groups of walkers. Aaron often wondered what happened to the giant herd that Daryl, Abraham and Sasha led away. Supposedly, they made sure the walkers were far enough away that they wouldn't find their way back, or perhaps they would separate into smaller groups. No one really knew what drove walkers to go where they wandered. Luckily, it was in the opposite direction from where the cabin was situated.

"You think it will still be there?" Aaron asked.

"What's that?"

"The cabin."

"Guess we'll find out soon. We're almost there," Daryl said.

Aaron started to recognize some of the terrain. They were very close to their turn off. From there, they would drive into the forest a short distance then park and walk the rest of the way to the cabin. They never drove to the cabin, unless it was Daryl's bike where they could pull it inside. Unfortunately, Daryl's bike was stolen. It was a shame because Aaron missed riding on the back of it, having to sit close to Daryl, feeling his body move with the bike.

Daryl parked the car and they got out. Aaron reached in the backseat and grabbed is pack. Daryl grabbed the shotguns that they'd brought with them. He walked around to Aaron's side and handed him his gun. Then Daryl hoisted his gun on his back. He looked disappointed.

"I miss my bow," he murmured. "If I ever see the son of a bitch that stole it . . ."

"The way you described him, he sounded scared. Poor bastard's probably dead already," Aaron said.

"Poor bastard, my ass. If he's dead, he got what he deserved, but he took my bike and my bow along with him. Maybe I'll go out scouting for it when we get back," he said disappointed by the loss of his two favorite things.

When they arrived at the cabin and went to the door, it was obvious that someone had broken in. The wood around the lock was splintered where an intruder forced his way into the house. Aaron and Daryl instantly went into defensive mode, each one lifting their gun and taking a side of the door. They had done this many times, and both knew how to work together. Daryl counted to three, mouthing the words without making sound. On three, Aaron opened the door and Daryl went in, gun raised, eyes focused in the dark entry hall. Usually, they would make some kind of sound to draw out any walkers hiding within, but not this time. If there were living people inside, they didn't want to give them much warning.

Daryl pointed at the left side of the cabin, gesturing for Aaron to check that side while Daryl checked the other side. Aaron nodded and started his search. The first door was the master bedroom. He opened it and scanned the room. It was empty, but he still needed to check the bathroom and closets. He cautiously stepped around the bed, and noticed that it wasn't made. Last time him and Daryl had been here, they had made the beds before leaving. Someone had definitely been inside the cabin.

Aaron threw open closet doors and then checked the bathroom. It was empty. When he left, Daryl was just entering the living room. "Find anything?" Daryl asked.

"No. You?" Aaron said.

"No."

"Someone was here, though. The bed's unmade, and I don't remember asking for turndown service," Aaron commented. "What about the other rooms?"

"They look unused," Daryl said as he looked towards the kitchen. "Come on."

They entered the kitchen and found some empty cans of food on the counter. "I'd like to say it was raccoons," Daryl commented. "But they don't know how to use a can opener."

Aaron walked along the island and noticed something written on a scrap of paper. He picked it up as Daryl watched him, and read it. "All it says is … thanks." Aaron handed it to him.

"Huh," Daryl huffed. "He must have just been passing through."

"Could be a trap or something," Aaron said cautiously. "We need to finish checking the property, including the boathouse."

Aaron and Daryl continued searching the house and didn't find anything else out of place. When they went to the back door, it was unlocked. Whoever had been in the cabin left that way. The men walked down to the boathouse. The door going inside was left open a crack. They took their same positions, and Daryl burst inside with Aaron on his heels. To their surprise, the boat was gone.

"Wow," Aaron said, surprised. "That's ballsy."

"Don't know how far he'll get," Daryl said as he walked along the indoor dock. "But it's a big lake. Probably leads to the ocean somehow."

"Even if it did, how long do you think he'd survive in a boat. Supplies are limited. You'd still have to go to shore every once in a while." Aaron shook his head. "Doesn't seem like a very good plan to me."

"Well, someone thought it was." Daryl looked around, but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "No big loss."

They returned to the cabin and had another look through all the rooms. Aaron rummaged through the kitchen, and was amazed to find most of their canned goods still there. He wondered why the intruder didn't take it all. He should have stocked up the boat. That's what Aaron might have done if it had been him. Daryl walked into the kitchen and saw the open cabinet doors with most of the food still in them.

"I'm surprised it's still here," Aaron commented. "Maybe he had to leave in a hurry."

"Naw," Daryl disagreed, picking up the scrap of paper. "He wouldn't have had time to write a note. He could see that someone occupied this place. Everything is in order. The cabinets are pretty well stocked with supplies, not a lot of dust. It looks lived in."

"So, he was being courteous?" Aaron wondered cynically.

"He was thinking that someone needed this place more than he did. He was passing through, spent a night, had a meal or two, and took the boat," Daryl told him.

Aaron stood back and observed Daryl. "He's good people. And you said there weren't any left," Aaron challenged.

"Whatever," Daryl mumbled. He picked up an empty soup can, and the corner of his mouth twisted into a smile.

"What is it?" Aaron asked when he noticed Daryl's expression.

"Nothing. It just reminds me of something." He took a seat at the island, and his mind wandered to a different time, a time that seemed like a thousand years ago. "Way back when my group got chased out of the prison, we all got separated. I ended up leaving with Beth."

"I remember you telling me about her. She was very special to you," Aaron said.

"She was. Beth was young, but she was tough. She was a fighter. She just didn't know it because no one had ever showed her what to do. No one ever helped her grow into her role. I guess I didn't either, at least not at first." Daryl ran his hand through his hair. "Well, that's a different story. I was laughing because this reminded me of her," he went on. "We were running … always running, and then we happened upon this place. We thought it was abandoned until we started looking through the kitchen cabinets and found it stocked. Just like this, everything was organized, no dust. That's how we knew someone was still living there. They weren't home and we were starving." Daryl laughed again. "Man, I ate a whole jar of grape jelly and some pickled pigs feet."

"That sounds disgusting," Aaron said making a face. He walked around the island and sat down next to Daryl.

"Yeah, but it was the best meal I'd had in days," Daryl reminisced. "Beth … she … she didn't think it was right, but she didn't resist either. She justified what we were doing by coming up with the idea to leave a note thanking whoever the house belonged to. I thought she was being ridiculous. I was ready to strip the cabinets clean and leave that place, but she wouldn't have it. Beth said it wasn't right … wasn't fair. She was always trying to convince me that there were still good people in the world, but I refused to believe her at the time."

"Eventually you started to believe there were. What changed your mind?" Aaron asked.

"Beth," Daryl whispered. "She was proof that good people existed, and I was just some lucky son of a bitch that got to be her friend. She taught me a lot in that short period of time that we were together. I'll never forget it … or her." He stopped and shook his head as he closed his eyes. "I always felt that I should have done more to protect her. I should have stayed with her, but I sent her out of the house after it got overrun with walkers. I stayed behind to fight them off and give her a chance to escape. Little did I know that she'd be kidnapped. Shit. If I'd just followed her out of the house."

"You did what you had to do at the time," Aaron comforted.

"But I could have done more. I don't know. Sometimes the choices I make come back to bite me in the ass," Daryl said with disappointment.

Aaron clasped a hand to Daryl's shoulder. He got the feeling they weren't talking about Beth anymore. He still hadn't gotten to the core of Daryl's story of what happened after leading the herd away from Alexandria. "You gonna tell me what really happened out there?"

Aaron knew Daryl fairly well. There wasn't much he could get away with that Aaron hadn't figured out ahead of time. Daryl was very aware of this trait, and Aaron was just waiting for an answer. "They caught me," Daryl said, his voice cracked with fatigue. "They tricked me, knocked me out, tied my hands together. There were two girls and a guy. He used the girls to distract me, and then he knocked me over the head. When I came to, the guy accused me of being one of 'them', whoever that is. He had a gun, pointed it right at my head and demanded answers." Daryl stopped and rubbed his wrists as though the ropes still bound them. "He could have killed me right then, and there's nothing I could have done about it. But there was something about the guy. He was scared. He didn't show it outwardly, but I saw it in his eyes. I was the one tied up and staring down the barrel of a gun, but he was the one who was scared. I saw something in him that I hadn't seen in myself in a long time … that kind of fear that takes over and controls you. He was running from something. I just got caught in the way."

"I didn't know it had been that intense," Aaron said with sympathy. "How'd you get away?"

"They were looking for something, and they dragged me with them. My hands were still tied, but I knew I'd find my opportunity to escape. They weren't watching me all that closely. One of the girls seemed sick, and they were helping her walk. Then she passed out … fell to the ground in a heap. That's when I took off, but not before grabbing the bag they carried. They shoved my bow and my radio in it. I ran as fast and as far as I could, found a place to hide, and started to open the bag when a walker came at me."

Aaron stood and started rubbing Daryl's shoulders. He was tense, his muscles hard with stress. As soon as Aaron started working them, Daryl began to relax. This was a safe place where they could take their time, and shed all the tension and strain of their daily life. It didn't take Daryl long to loosen up, especially with Aaron's expert hands kneading away the anxiety.

"What was wrong with the girl?" Aaron wondered.

"I didn't know until I opened that bag. There was a cooler full of insulin. She was diabetic." Daryl twisted his head from one side to the other as Aaron worked his magic. "God, that feels good," he moaned.

Aaron smiled to himself and coaxed Daryl into continuing the story. "I bet you took it back to her, didn't you?"

Daryl nodded. "I did, but that was my first mistake."

"What do you mean?" Aaron asked, as he hands moved from Daryl's shoulders to his spine.

"I found them, caught them off guard, threatened them with my bow, made the guy hand over his gun, but it wasn't good enough. I wanted to strip him of everything important. I wanted him to know how it felt to have everything taken away. All he had was this little wood figure that he'd been carving. I knew it was personal to him. My granddaddy used to carve things out of wooden sticks, and every single one of them represented something personal to him. So I took it from that guy and tossed him the bag with the medicine. Looks like I was just in time, too. The girl, she didn't look so good."

"Anyone else wouldn't have gone back. They wouldn't have given a shit about that girl," Aaron said. Then he leaned into Daryl and wrapped his arms around him. "I've always known you were a good man, Daryl Dixon, even in the most desperate times."

Daryl turned around on his seat and wrapped his arms around Aaron's waist. Aaron pushed the long dark hair from Daryl's eyes, and kissed him. It had been a while since they were that close … that intimate. It felt good to get back what they had before their disagreement, to be comfortable with each other.

"You told me once that I had the ability to see good in people," Daryl said. "And I thought I had this guy figured out. I thought he was just scared. I thought … I thought I should bring him back to Alexandria because he saw I was a good person too. For Christ's sake, we helped each other. I gave him back his gun and we fought those assholes that he was running from." Daryl stopped and hung his head, leaning against Aaron's chest. "The girl, the sick one, she got killed by walkers. It was an accident. She thought they were dead and they got her. The other girl held her, crying over her body. The guy seemed upset that he'd lost something again. I think he was trying to get the girls away from whoever he was running from. He just wanted to protect them, and he failed to do it. I could see his doubt, like maybe he shouldn't have taken her with him. Maybe she'd still be alive if he'd left her behind. And seeing him like that made me remember what it was like to lose Beth … twice. And I knew what he was thinking because I've thought the same thing. Maybe there was something more we could have done for those we took responsibility for."

"Did you try?" Aaron whispered.

Daryl remembered the first time Aaron asked him that. It seemed like a century since that time, when Daryl and his people first arrived in Alexandria, and Daryl was going to go to Deanna's welcome party. He couldn't do it. He just wasn't ready, and it was Aaron that said he tried and that was all that mattered. Since that time, Daryl had always tried because that's what Aaron would want him to do.

After a long silence, Daryl nodded and continued. "I helped him bury the girl. I helped him dig the grave. I could sense his defeat, and I wanted him to know he wasn't alone in this. I asked him the questions. I had made up my mind that I trusted him without a doubt, and I asked the questions. He looked me right in the eyes as he answered, and I really believed he was telling the truth. He said he'd never killed a living person because once he did, there'd be no going back. It was my first time to recruit someone by myself without you there with me, but I trusted my decision to ask. I trusted my decision to tell him about Alexandria, and to make him see that there was something still normal out there, and I led him back to the spot where I hid my bike."

Daryl stood, releasing himself from Aaron's arms still wrapped around his waist. He walked away and braced his hands on the edge of the sink. To think about what happened made him feel sick to the stomach, but to admit his failure to Aaron made him feel like his heart was ripping from his chest. He took a deep breath and confessed. "I allowed myself to trust a total stranger because my gut told me it was the right thing to do. And then the bastard fucked me over. He had the gun that I gave him, pointed it at me, and took everything … my bow … my bike. He left me out there with nothing, not even a knife. For the first time in a long time, I questioned my ability to judge a person correctly. Now, I'm not sure of myself." Daryl cocked his head to the side. "I think I screwed up, Aaron. I think … I think I should have just killed him and not looked back, and because I didn't, it left a bad taste in my mouth."

Aaron went to Daryl, and put his hands at his waist. "And if you didn't try, if you left him on his own, you'd still feel like you screwed up. The point is, you tried. It wasn't your fault. There's going to be those people that pass your test and then disappoint you. I know because it happened to me. I told you about it a while ago. I allowed people in that my gut told me were good people, and they tried to take over Alexandria. And then I was the one who had to lead them away, no weapons, no way to protect themselves." Aaron released Daryl and turned so that his back was leaning against the counter next to where Daryl stood at the sink. "I felt sick about it for a long time afterwards. I felt like I gave them hope by bringing them in, and then I turned them out with nothing. But eventually I realized that they did it to themselves. They made threats that couldn't go unnoticed. They forced my hand, and sending them away was all I could do. And I felt a lot like you do now … about not bringing anymore people in. I didn't want to take the risk anymore. But the thing is, we have to take the risk. We have to try." Aaron reached out his hand and laid it upon Daryl's arm. "You, Rick and everyone, you all were the first people I brought back to Alexandria after that bad experience. I was faced with having to rely on my gut once more, and the last time I did, it didn't work out. But I took the chance on your group, and I've never been so glad I did, because now I have you in my life."

Daryl turned his head to the side and looked at Aaron from the corner of his eye. Then he pushed away from the sink and stood straight, prowling towards Aaron. He cupped Aaron's face and kissed him solidly, savoring the feel of lips and tongue, the way the stubble on Aaron's face scraped on his own. He leaned into Aaron, and writhed against his body. Aaron gave in easily. Daryl assaulted his neck, tasting his flesh and inhaling the musky scent of his lover.

"What the hell were we fighting for?" Daryl moaned as Aaron tilted his head to the side to give full access.

"I don't remember," Aaron smiled. "But I sure like how we're making up."

"We should argue more often," Daryl laughed as he nipped at Aaron's neck.

"Or we could just skip right to this part." Aaron's hand moved down and started working Daryl through his pants.

Daryl pushed himself into Aaron's hand and moaned. "Mmm, I like this part, but . . ." He pulled Aaron's hand away. "Let's take it somewhere more comfortable like the bedroom."

"Ok, but someone has been sleeping in papa bear's bed," Aaron reminded him.

"I don't fucking care. I want you. I need you now, Aaron," Daryl pleaded.

"Then let's go." Aaron led Daryl back to the bedroom. They were both satisfied that the house was secure, and that whoever had been there was long gone with the boat by now. The lock on the front door had been jimmied open, but Daryl fixed it using some wire to secure the door shut. There was a lock on the door to the boathouse, and Daryl already planned on changing it out for the broken lock on the front. All that could wait for now.

They undressed and slid onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets, amorous moans and seductive touches. Daryl gestured for Aaron to take control of him, an act he didn't do often, but there was something about being at the cabin that made Daryl feel like he could release all his inhibitions and allow Aaron to reign over him. Aaron didn't question the gesture. He obeyed his lover's needs, prepared them and took Daryl to him, gently easing himself down. Daryl tensed briefly, but relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of being filled. He trusted Aaron with his life, with his love, and with his soul, probably more than he trusted himself anymore.

They moved in perfect rhythm with each other, closing in on their climax. Daryl released first, but Aaron wasn't far behind. He tensed and released, collapsing onto Daryl's back, pulsating, emptying himself into his lover. After a brief rest, Aaron rolled to the side, and Daryl turned to face him. They kissed with slow passion, and stared into each other's eyes.

"I … I know I don't say it enough, but … I-I love you. I hope you know that," Daryl admitted sheepishly.

Aaron smiled and pushed Daryl's hair from his face. "I do know it, but it's nice to hear it. It's the one thing I never have to doubt."

"Good," Daryl responded.

"And I love you too," Aaron continued. "No matter what happens or whether we argue or disagree, my feelings for you outweigh any of it. That will never change."

"Good, because I'm just not ready to recruit right now, and I can't bring myself to agree to it. But I'm not going to stop you, if you want to go, and if the town agrees on it."

"I don't think Rick thinks it's a good idea right now either, but I'm confident that we'll bring people in again. We just need more time, that's all. It's only been a couple months. We're still mourning. I understand that more than anyone. And when the time comes, I'll be ready to go."

"Maybe I'll be ready by then too, but I'm not making any promises."

"So, if I want to head out on a run with Heath and Tara will you let me go without argument?" Aaron asked in a playful tone.

"I thought we were taking baby steps here," Daryl returned in his own playful way. "You do know they go out for about two weeks at a time."

"I know," Aaron said, running his finger along Daryl's chest.

"I don't think you can handle being away from me for that long," Daryl taunted him.

"Oh, it will be tough, but I think I'll manage somehow, especially if you give me another night or two like this one." Aaron's hand moved lower, teasing Daryl's abdomen.

"What if I can't take being away from you for that long?" Daryl pushed his hips forward and Aaron cupped him.

"I think you can take it," Aaron whispered wantonly, stroking Daryl to life.

"I can and I have, but now it's your turn to … take it," Daryl growled and covered Aaron with his body. Aaron responded by wrapping his legs around Daryl's waist. Daryl moved into him swiftly and pumped his hips. Aaron gave in easily, and allowed Daryl to do whatever he wanted. Things were finally falling into place again.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32 Little Pink Cookies for You and Me**

Daryl and Aaron parked their car and grabbed their bags. They stood at the gate, waiting for Sasha to open it. Aaron looked at Daryl and smiled. "Home sweet home."

Daryl looked back at the road they came up. "It's good to get away," he said, and turned to look forward through the gate. "But it's always nice to get back."

"So … we're good?" Aaron asked, watching Daryl for a response before they went any further.

"We're better than good," Daryl said with a faint smile.

Sasha watched them walk through. "Hello boys. Welcome home." She gave them an impish grin.

"Hey Sasha," Aaron smiled, a blush tinging his cheeks.

"Anything new?" Daryl asked, ignoring her silly gesture.

"Nope. All's well here. Been pretty damn quiet lately." She almost sounded disappointed.

"That's how it should be," Aaron said as he and Daryl started to walk back to their house.

"Oh, but there's one thing," Sasha said, and the men stopped and turned towards here. She looked at Daryl. "Rick said to come see him."

"What about?" Daryl wondered.

Sasha shrugged her shoulders. "Didn't say. Just told me to give you the message when you got back."

"Alright," Daryl said, as him and Aaron made their way towards their house.

It was a bright sunny day, not too hot, a decent breeze blowing down the streets of Alexandria. It was the kind of day where everyone could stop and take a relaxing breath. Could this be it? Daryl wondered as he walked next to Aaron. Was this where they were supposed to end up? Since the beginning, he'd been running with the group, always trying to find that one special place where they could all settle down and try to make a normal life for themselves again. It sure felt like they had reached their goal, but Daryl wasn't one to settle. He'd never known what that was like, even before the apocalypse. He had run from his father, from his brother, from life in general and from who he was. Then everything fell apart and he was running from the dead or the corrupt. But now . . . Was this it or was there more to come?

"Hey, you ok?" Aaron asked.

Daryl came out of his thoughts. "Yeah, just thinking."

"About what?" Aaron coaxed him to keep going.

"How do you feel about things?"

"Things?" Aaron wasn't following his questioning.

"Yeah, life, Alexandria, threats, peace … you know, things."

"Well," Aaron started, thinking about his answer. "Life is good … now," he smiled at Daryl. "Alexandria seems … fortified, but I'll feel better once Tobin and his crew finish the new watch tower. I think for this moment we have peace, but I still wonder about those people you came across out there. You said they were scared, as though they were running away from someone."

"Could have been those pricks I blew up in the road. If that's it, that guy ain't got nothing to be scared of anymore … except me … if I ever see him again. Son of a bitch still has my shit," Daryl mumbled.

"We can build another bike," Aaron said to lighten the mood. "We've got all those spare parts in the garage, and I know where we can find a frame. I saw an old bike near some broke down shack not far from here. Maybe tomorrow, we take the car and go see if it's salvageable. If it is, we can bring it back. I'll help you build it, or at least, you can show me how. I always wanted to learn."

"Sounds like a plan," Daryl answered. Actually, it made him happy to have something like that to look forward to. Daryl had always liked building things, especially bikes or cars, anything mechanical. He was good at it, always had been.

They were close to their house when Daryl stopped. "Hey, can you take my stuff?"

"Sure," Aaron said. "But where are you going?"

"I'm gonna meet up with Rick, save some time by going now."

"Alright," Aaron agreed, reaching to take Daryl's pack and gun. "You coming back to the house afterwards?"

Daryl stood close to Aaron, and watched him through his narrowed eyes. "Why? You want to get me alone and take advantage of me?" Daryl jested seductively.

"I figure we got some time to make up for," Aaron smiled, one eye squinted against the bright rays of the sun. "And you owe me a backrub, remember."

"You already wanting to collect on that, huh?"

Aaron gave a devious gaze. "Or I could let you off easy if you kiss me right here, right now … tongue too." He knew Daryl didn't like to show affection in public.

Daryl seemed to be considering it, but he shook his head and turned it to the side. "Stop," he said as he took a step back. "I'll rub your back, but I can't promise I'll stop there."

"I don't expect you to." Aaron watched Daryl walk away towards Rick's house and sighed deep. Everything felt right for once, and he should have been happy with that, but he couldn't help feeling like there was something or some situation lurking right around the corner. No one was ever in a good way for long now days. Best to just enjoy it while it was here, he thought to himself, and let his mind conjure up what activities the night would bring.

* * *

Aaron was walking along, lost in lustful thought, and didn't see Carol at first. Then he heard her and looked over to the house on his right. It was Tobin's home. Carol was on his porch talking to him and . . .

Could it be? Was she … smiling? She was and Tobin was smiling back. Carol held a container out for him, and he took a cookie from it. He took a bite and chewed slowly, nodding as he did. Carol backed up a step, nervously shuffling back and forth from one foot to the other. But what caught Aaron's attention was the look on Tobin's face. His eyes were focused on her, seeing only Carol as she stood before him. And his smile was genuine too.

"Well, there's more where that came from," Carol said as she started to turn back towards the street.

Aaron realized he had been standing there watching them, and he started to walk again so Carol wouldn't become suspicious.

"I'm counting on it," Tobin said in reply, his smile growing wider now that Carol wasn't looking at him.

She hadn't seen Aaron yet, but he saw her, and the smile she wore showed more than the pleasantries that had been exchanged. Carol's eyes lifted and she saw Aaron, but he pretended not to notice.

"Hey, Aaron. You're back," she said cheerily.

"Oh, hi Carol. Didn't see you there," he lied convincingly. "What are you up to?"

"I've been trying different ways to pass the time, and I came up with a new recipe for cookies. We're running low on the basic necessities. Cookies are the least on people's minds, but I thought it would cheer everyone up," she said. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself of this. She reached into the bag on her shoulder, pulled out a square plastic container, and handed it to Aaron.

Aaron opened it and sniffed. "Smells delicious. What kind are they?" He noticed that they were pink.

"Ground acorns and beets," she answered, seeming quite pleased with herself.

Aaron furrowed his brows unintentionally and Carol noticed his skepticism. They started walking again as she spoke. "Ed, my late husband, would give me cash to buy groceries. Sometimes there was hardly enough. I think he was afraid I'd run away if he gave me too much money. So I learned to make things stretch, or substitute certain ingredients."

"Sounds like that talent has come in handy," Aaron commented.

"Try one and tell me what you think," she said.

Aaron lifted a cookie to his mouth and took a bite. It was a little dry, but . . . "Not bad." He started to hand the container back but she stopped him.

"Those are for you and Daryl," Carol smiled. "Where is he anyway?"

"Rick wanted to see him. We just got back. Haven't even been home yet. Want to come over?"

"Yeah, sure," she answered and they went on to Aaron and Daryl's house.

Aaron deposited his and Daryl's bags by the front door and went to the kitchen. "I've got just enough tea left for the two of us," he offered.

"Oh, I don't want to impose," she replied.

"It's ok. Daryl won't drink it. And it will go good with the cookies." Aaron grabbed the tea kettle and filled it at the sink.

"They're kind of dry," Carol said with disappointment. "Still in the experimental stage." She tapped her fingers against the granite countertop. "So, how was your trip?"

"It was … long overdue," Aaron said. "I think we're good now."

"That's what I like to hear."

Aaron turned on the stove and sat on a barstool across from Carol to wait for the water to heat. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know. You … Tobin … Cookies," Aaron smiled impishly.

Carol rolled her eyes. "I've been handing them out to everyone. He was one of my stops," she said innocently.

"He seemed a bit elated over cookies," Aaron teased.

Carol looked annoyed. "I'm a good cook," she said in a demanding tone. "What are you getting at?"

Aaron threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying."

Carol glared at him a moment before she turned away to face the living room. Suddenly, she didn't seem so joyous about the Tobin situation. Aaron was afraid he overstepped his bounds. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot."

Carol shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at Aaron, giving him a half smile. "You didn't. It's just … I … I don't know. Things aren't always what they seem."

Aaron understood what she meant. He and Daryl had been putting on a front when others were around. Meanwhile, at home they argued over their difference in opinions. Hopefully, that was over now. They had come to an understanding after talking things through. "If it's any consolation, Tobin is a great guy. I've known him since I came to Alexandria. He's a real gentleman."

"Yeah, I know," she said just above a whisper. "He deserves someone … who will be there for him, and treat him the way he treats others."

"That could very easily be you," Aaron said with compassion. "If you're interested in him." He waited to see what she would say, but she didn't comment. She only hung her head and looked at her folded hands in her lap. "So … Are you? … Interested?"

Slowly she started to nod and Aaron put his hand on her arm. "So what's stopping you?"

Her expression softened a little, as she tried to explain her situation. "When I came to Alexandria, I had to disguise myself. I became little Suzie Homemaker so that I could fit in with the other women. I found myself living the same kind of life I had before the outbreak, minus the bruises and broken bones." She looked down and away. "Ed used to beat me sometimes. I always had a story. I guess people thought I was a real klutz." Now she looked at Aaron with such sadness in her eyes. "After Ed died … and Sophia, I changed. I became the person I always wished I could be in order to get away from my abusive life. I embraced the new me, let it mature and shape me into a survivor. But then I couldn't stop and I've had to do things that most people couldn't. I've lied. I've killed. I've done whatever I needed to do to stay alive. It's a part of me now. When I turned back into that pitiful excuse for a woman after coming to Alexandria, I hated it, and I realized that I hated a part of myself in the process. It didn't really matter to me at the time. I was doing what I needed to do to fit in again. It was working. I was accepted. And that's the person that Tobin has come to have feelings for."

"I don't think that's the case," Aaron said. "Tobin's seen you fight. We all have. After the tower fell, you and Rick, and all the others, we saw you put yourself out there and risk everything. We watched you and we made the choice to join you. You showed Alexandria what we had to do to survive, and if anything, we are all thankful for that."

"We were killing walkers. That's different." Carol turned away from Aaron, not wanting him to see her face. "You don't know, Aaron. You don't know the things I've done," she said, shaking her head slowly back and forth.

"I could say the same about me. Everyone has had to do things they didn't want to do. It's why we're still here. I think Tobin would understand if you didn't expose every incident that–"

"Does Daryl know everything about you?" she asked, turning the tables on him.

"Well … yeah, but–"

"So if I pursued something with Tobin, he would want to know about me, and if he ever found out about some of the wretched things I've done, he'd never want anything to do with me. So why even start it?" she justified to herself.

"Because you deserve to be happy too." The kettle began to whistle, and Aaron rose from his stool to pull it off the burner and prepare their tea. He already had the cups out and the tea ready. He turned back to the counter and poured the steaming water into each one. "Everyone has secrets they don't want others to know about. I'm sure Tobin does too. That doesn't need to be part of the conversation. I'm not saying you have to think about anything committed with him. Just give Tobin a chance. Get to know him a little, the basics. Go at your own pace. He is a really sweet man." He pushed a cup towards Carol and smiled. "Enough about that. Enjoy the last of the tea. It may be a while before we can do this again."

Carol accepted the cup and forced a smile through her concerned expression. "Thank you, Aaron. I'll try."

* * *

After Carol left, Aaron went out to the front porch and made himself comfortable in one of the outdoor wicker chairs. He pulled the ottoman over and put his feet up. On the matching table between the chairs, he placed two cold beers, and waited for Daryl to come home. It wasn't long after that Aaron saw him walking down the street. Aaron put on a pair of sunglasses so he could gawk without being obvious.

Daryl really was a very handsome man. He was rugged and muscular, tall and mysterious. If you didn't know him well, you couldn't tell what he was thinking. Aaron thought Daryl would have been a good professional poker player. He was good at hiding his thoughts and emotions. That wasn't the case with Aaron. He knew Daryl better than anyone, knew him intimately, and saw a side of him that no one else saw. He thought himself very fortunate to be entrusted with that kind of closeness. Of course, it went further than that. They loved each other, connected on so many levels. Daryl was the best thing that ever happened to Aaron.

There he was, coming down the street, exuding confidence with every stride. Just the site of Daryl made Aaron's heartbeat accelerate. He wore his usual pants and boots with the laces tied partway up his legs. His knife hung from his belt, and in place of his bow, which was stolen, he had a rifle slung over his back. Daryl had on that shirt with the sleeves that had been torn away, which displayed his muscular arms quite handsomely. And of course, his winged vest finished off the look. Watching Daryl walk home was making Aaron's body pulse with little electric shocks. He was struck with a vision of striping Daryl of that shirt and vest, and decided that was one daydream he'd make come true.

Daryl ascended the porch steps and gave a quick nod. "Sup," he greeted.

"Hey," Aaron replied, trying to sound casual and cool.

Daryl stood before him and cocked his head to the side. "Why you wearing those?" he asked, referring to the sunglasses.

"It's bright out," Aaron said, a half smile on his lips.

Daryl looked at him with suspicion, shrugged and took a seat. "Ok. Whatever."

Aaron picked up the beer and handed it to Daryl. "Thought you'd be thirsty."

"Thanks," Daryl answered and reached for the beer, but Aaron pulled it away. He handed it to Daryl again, but as Daryl tried to take it, Aaron yanked it back a second time. Daryl huffed. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," Aaron said, and handed the beer back one more time. Daryl reached for it, and this time Aaron didn't pull it away, but he didn't release it right away either. "Nothing yet," he said, finishing his answer, sliding the sunglasses down on the bridge of his nose. His hand released the bottle and slid over Daryl's hand in a suggestive manner.

Daryl's eyes narrowed and bore down on Aaron. "Well ain't you the little charmer." After a long moment caught in each other's gaze, Daryl brought the bottle to his lips. He drank deep, keeping his sight on Aaron the whole time. When he was done drinking, he pulled the bottle away slowly and licked his bottom lip. Aaron's own lips parted as he watched Daryl. He could feel his breath quicken. "Thanks for the beer," Daryl told him. He held the bottle up and observed the label. "Mmph," he grunted.

"What?" Aaron wondered. Maybe it didn't taste good. There was no telling how old it was, but he thought it tasted alright.

"I was looking to see what was in this stuff," Daryl said. He took another swig and pointed the open end at Aaron. "Because whatever it is, I like the affect it has on you."

"I can assure you, it's not the beer," Aaron said, his voice low and gravelly.

Daryl paused midway between lifting the bottle to his lips and taking another swig. "Damn," he whispered, and he lowered the bottle.

Aaron noticed the change in him and furrowed his brow. "What is it?"

"Don't get me wrong. I like coming home and finding you like this, but you're making it difficult for me to tell you–"

"Tell me what?" Aaron asked with seriousness as he set his beer down and took his glasses off.

Daryl's eyes darted to Aaron and away, and he was chewing his bottom lip, all signs that he had something important to say. "I have to leave."

"Leave? Where?"

"Rick wants me to go on a supply run with him," Daryl admitted. "Just me and him … like old times."

"What? No. But you can't. We just got home. And besides, I didn't think you wanted us going out there right now or have you forgotten. You damn near forbade me. So why is it alright for you to go?" Aaron said accusingly.

"Woah, slow down. We came to an agreement or have _you_ forgotten. I told you I wouldn't mind if you went on a run with Heath and Tara," Daryl justified.

"Yeah, but I'm not going right now. Daryl, we just got back. I thought we were going to spend some quality time together, pick up where we left off at the cabin," Aaron said disappointedly.

"I told Rick I didn't want to go right now, but he's got this trip set in his mind. You know how it is with him. It's difficult to say no."

"Well, yeah, but it should be more difficult to say no to your boyfriend, not your best friend." As soon as Aaron said it, he felt like a dick. "I'm sorry," he apologized right away.

Daryl got up from his chair and straddled the ottoman, making Aaron remove his feet. Then Daryl sat down so he was right in front of Aaron. "It's only for a day, two at the most. I promise. He only wants to go because he knows medical supplies are running low since Denise fixed up Carl's eye. I think Rick's feeling a little guilty over that."

Aaron looked down at his lap and sighed heavily. "I suppose there's nothing I could do to make you change your mind."

"Probably not, but it would be a hell of a good time to have you try." That grabbed Aaron's attention, and Daryl winked at him. "Besides, you'll get payback when you go on a run with Heath and Tara, and leave me behind." Daryl's hand went to Aaron's knee. "All alone." His hand traveled slowly up the inside of Aaron's thigh. "And wishing I had you next to me in bed." He palmed Aaron, giving a light squeeze until a quiet moan escaped his lips.

"If you tell me you're leaving right now, I will never forgive you for getting me worked up," Aaron said. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed Daryl's ministrations.

"We're not leaving until the morning." Daryl released Aaron and stood. He held his hand out and Aaron took it. Daryl helped pull him up from the wicker chair. "Now, get in the house. I'm not done with you."

Aaron was about to reply when someone called out from the sidewalk. "Hey Daryl. Mind if I take a moment of your time?"

The men turned to see Denise standing in front of their house. "What's up?" Daryl called back to her.

When he turned, she saw Aaron. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't meant to barge in on you two. Hey Aaron. I didn't see you there."

"Hi Denise. You want to come in?" Aaron offered with a kind smile.

"Oh. No. That's alright. It can wait. I just wanted to talk to Daryl before he left," she said nervously.

"So talk," Daryl said in his intimidating way. He was good at making people uncomfortable.

"Ok, but … uh … it's kind of private. You know what, I'll wait," she stammered.

Aaron elbowed Daryl and whispered. "Go talk to her. Sounds important."

"I've got better things to see to," Daryl complained, as he eyes scanned Aaron's body.

"I'm not going anywhere. Go on. And be nice," Aaron warned. He looked past Daryl and smiled. "I'll see you later, Denise."

"Alright. Thanks," she called back.

Daryl watched Aaron a moment, not wanting to talk to Denise. Aaron mouthed the demand 'go' and gave him a push. Daryl rolled his eyes before he turned around to face Denise. Then he went down the porch steps to join her on the sidewalk. Aaron heard her start to mention a favor she was asking of him before he went inside. He hoped Daryl would be nice to her. Denice was sweet, and sometimes she had a hard time coming out of her shell, but since she took over Pete's job as town doctor, she seemed more outgoing.

Once inside, Aaron took a seat on the couch and picked up the book he had been reading earlier. He had already read it twice, and it wasn't much better the third time around. They needed some new reading material in Alexandria, and he thought that maybe he'd ask Daryl to keep an eye out for books while he was out on his run.

After a little while, he heard Daryl come inside and walk into the living room. "What did Denise want?" Aaron asked.

"She asked me to pick something up for her, if I come across it while I'm out there," Daryl said.

"Some kind of medicine?" Aaron wondered, nose still buried in his book.

"Pop," Daryl answered.

"Pop?"

"That's what I said. What the hell is pop? Apparently that's what they call soda where she's from."

Aaron laughed when he remembered a similar conversation with her some time ago. "It's funny how certain things are referred to differently depending on what part of the country you're from. What did you call it down there in Georgia?"

Daryl thought about it for a moment. "Coke, I guess. Actually, Jack and Coke was more popular," he laughed. He stood in front of Aaron and looked at the cover of the book he was reading. "Is that interesting?"

Aaron turned the book over and looked at the cover. "It's a murder mystery. The first time I read it, I figured out who the killer was about half way through. So, no, it's not very interesting, especially reading it a third time. I keep hoping the murderer will be someone different." He raised the book back up and continued to read.

"Then why do you keep reading it?"

Aaron sighed. "Because I've read every book in this place, and there's nothing new."

Daryl looked around the room and into the office, which was just off the living room. There were shelves almost as tall as the ceiling on one wall, mostly full of books. "That's a lot of reading."

"Yeah," Aaron agreed. "I read most of them when I first settled down in Alexandria. I guess I had a lot of time on my hands."

Daryl knelt down on the floor in front of Aaron. "Well, if you have time to read now, then I'm not doing my job." He took the book from Aaron's hands and laid it on the end table. His eyes smoldered deep blue as he watched Aaron with desire.

"I-I wouldn't e-exactly say you've b-been slacking," Aaron stammered, as he watched Daryl's hands travel up his thighs. His fingers fumbled at the buckle on Aaron's belt until it was undone, and he pulled it through the loops. "W-what are you d-doing?"

Daryl smiled fiendishly. "Picking up where we left off at the cabin. That is what you want, isn't it?" As he spoke, he unbuttoned Aaron's pants and slid the zipper down slowly.

Aaron watched Daryl's strong hands undress him. "Yeah," he answered in a breathy whisper.

"Then lay back, relax, and let me take you."

"Don't I get that back rub first?" Aaron jested as he laid down on the couch.

"I'll be rubbing something, but not your back. Now quit your jabbering." Daryl pushed at the waistband of Aaron's pants, making him lift his hips so Daryl could complete his intention. Aaron was already hard, exciting Daryl even more than he already was. He didn't waste any more time and got started.

Aaron watched as Daryl's lips slid along his hard length. Daryl took him in all at once, and the feel of being swallowed almost made Aaron come undone right then. "Oh yeah," Aaron moaned when Daryl's tongue caressed him. Then came the pressure and the squeeze of Daryl's mouth while completely engulfed by warmth. The pressure eased and Daryl began sliding him in and out, tongue teasing the tip or running along the rim. Aaron's hips gyrated involuntarily with every stroke. Daryl took his time and increased his rhythm in small increments. He wanted Aaron to last as long as he could, drive him crazy with need, and when he couldn't take it anymore Daryl would finish him.

Aaron's fingers entwined in Daryl's long dark hair. It felt silky in his hands when he held Daryl's head in place. It took everything Aaron had not to push his head down and force his cock deep. Daryl was doing a good job as it was, but Aaron wanted to lose control. It felt so unbelievably euphoric, the way Daryl was caressing his full length. Every inch was being stroked, licked or sucked. He could feel it building, the need for release. Daryl knew his body better than anyone ever had, knew his triggers, and he was working on one place in particular at the moment. He felt his balls tighten, his cock pulsating, and he was ready. Daryl knew this too, and he took Aaron's cock all the way, holding him there, sucking him, and using his tongue to coax him on. Then Daryl moaned, and the vibration traveled through Aaron like a live wire sparking each nerve to life. Aaron's back came off the couch, arching as his hips pushed into Daryl's face. Finally, stars burst behind his closed eyes as he came hard. He felt Daryl's mouth close completely around him and suck him as Daryl swallowed.

"Oh Daryl!" Aaron called out. "Fuck, that's good!"

Slowly, Daryl slipped Aaron's cock from his mouth, his tongue flicking along the way. Aaron's body convulsed with pleasure as the vestiges of his orgasm sparked across his sensitive skin. Then Aaron collapsed into the cushions. Daryl laid his head on Aaron's stomach and listened to his rapid breath.

"Oh my God. I-I can't move my legs. Th-they're shaking and I can't stop," Aaron said with a smile.

"You don't need to move. Just lay there and recover," Daryl told him.

Aaron shook his head. "I want you to feel what I just felt. It's your turn now." Aaron kicked his pants off the rest of the way, and rolled onto his stomach. "I want you inside me, Daryl."

Daryl looked at the perfect ass being offered to him. It was true that he wanted to ride Aaron hard and quick. Making Aaron come, listening to his wanton cries of pleasure had made Daryl very hard. He hadn't planned on taking his own joy. This was all for Aaron, but … damn, the man was fine, and Daryl never felt closer to heaven than when he was buried inside Aaron. So, he relieved himself of his clothes and laid down with Aaron, who had turned on his side facing the back of the couch. Daryl contoured his body to Aaron's body after preparing them both, and slid inside.

"Yeah, Aaron," Daryl whispered in a long release of breath. One arm was draped over Aaron's side, and he anchored himself for the best position. Aaron helped by pushing his backside into Daryl. A rhythm was set, and they moved like one entity, moaning and breathing rapidly. Daryl pumped his hips and reached deep inside Aaron's body. He moved faster and harder, feeling himself ready, building with each gyration. And then he hit his climax, and buried his cock as deep as he could, making Aaron cry out with pleasure. Daryl held himself there, pumping with quick, short, deep bursts as he spilled. He felt Aaron's body go rigid. Damn, he'd made Aaron come a second time. How in fuck's name had he managed that?

"Don't move," Aaron begged, his voice strained. "Let's stay like this."

"I'm not going anywhere. It feels too good," Daryl whispered in his ear. He kissed the back of Aaron's neck. "I wish I could stay inside you forever. The world just disappears when we're like this."

"It does, doesn't it," Aaron said with a smile. "When we make love, nothing else exists except the two of us."

Daryl pulled Aaron into his chest. "Sometimes you're all I live for. You're the only thing that really matters."

"I feel the same way, and that's why I get so damn nervous when you leave without me," Aaron admitted. He was quiet for a moment, and then he continued. "Do you ever think about what would happen if I suddenly wasn't there anymore?"

"I don't think about that, though I'll admit, I was terrified when I got to Alexandria and the wall was down, and walkers were everywhere. I'll tell ya … I was never so scared in all my life. I didn't know where you were or if you were alright. But I found you, and you were alive." Daryl hadn't talked about that night aloud before. Neither man had ever discussed it.

"But what would you have done if I wasn't ok?" Aaron dared to ask.

"That didn't happen, so I don't think about it," Daryl said defiantly.

"It could have happened. You could have found me dead, chopped up by Wolves or half eaten or even undead."

"Why do have to ask such morbid questions?" Daryl said. "I told you, I don't want to think about that." He'd laid with Aaron long enough, and decided it was time to get up. He picked his pants up and dressed.

Aaron did the same, and kept inquiring as they stood in the living room and dressed. "I'm not trying to be morbid. It's something we've never discussed before, and after the break-in and the wave of walkers … and Eric . . ." He paused before he went on, zipped up his fly and buckled his belt. "Well, every now and then the thought creeps in, and I think we need to talk about it."

Daryl sat back onto the couch and began putting his boots on. "I've got an idea. Neither one of us dies. Problem solved."

"That's not rational and you know it."

"Jesus, Aaron, why do have to talk about this right now?" Daryl said angrily. They'd just spent the better part of an hour making incredible love and losing themselves to passion. The last thing Daryl wanted to discuss was either one of them dying.

"I want to talk about it because you're leaving tomorrow, and anything could happen to you out there. It's just you and Rick. You know the smaller your numbers the more vulnerable you are."

"We're looking for medicine and fucking pop … soda … whatever the hell you want to call it. Nothing's going to happen," Daryl argued. "Do you know how many times Rick and I made supply runs when we were in that prison? Nothing ever happened to us. We know what the fuck we're doing."

"What if this is the time you don't come back?" Aaron asked quietly.

Daryl tried to avoid the conversation, but he could see that Aaron wasn't going to give up. Better to comfort him than to argue. He put his hands on Aaron's waist and looked him in the eyes. "I have to come back. I'm not ready to leave this world yet because I know you're in it. And I–" He paused and kissed Aaron softly. "I love you."

"I love you too, which is why I worry," Aaron smiled.

"Now you see why I didn't want you going out there either." Daryl looked down, his long dark hair hiding his face as he spoke. "It, uh … it terrifies me to think you might not come back. I don't know how I'd handle that. We're taking a risk here, you and I, coming together, committing ourselves to one another. A lot of people don't find what we have, not because they can't, but because they don't want to. They don't want to suffer from loss again. Me? I've suffered loss, but I've never loved them the way I love you. And that's why I'll always do everything within my power to survive. I can only imagine how much pain I'd be in if you weren't with me anymore. I never want you to know that kind of loss either."

Aaron leaned forward and lifted Daryl's chin until their eyes locked. He kissed Daryl long and slow, savoring every moment of their lips sliding together. Then Aaron released him and leaned back. "That's what I wanted to know. That's why I asked earlier. I mean, I think I knew how you felt, but … I don't know … I guess I just needed to hear it. I feel just the same. If you … died … I-I would only be able to go on because I knew you'd want me to. Otherwise … Jesus, Daryl, I love you through to my soul, and without you there would be a void in my very being."

"Then we make a pact," Daryl told him. "And swear that whenever one of us is out there without the other, we will do everything humanly possible … and beyond … to make sure we come home. You know I'd fight until my last breath for you. So, if something ever happens to me, you'll know it wasn't because I gave up. I'll never give up. That's the best promise I can make you, Aaron."

"That's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me," Aaron replied. "And I totally agree with the pact. I would do anything … absolutely anything to make sure we have another day in each other's lives."

Daryl gave Aaron one of his tight-lipped smiles. "So, we're good?" he asked, just as Aaron had asked earlier that day.

Aaron laughed. "We're better than good."

They settled on the couch again, and just talked. It was finally feeling normal again for both men. After everything that happened, and having to adjust, after their arguments over their differences, they had learned that nothing mattered more than being together. They wouldn't always see eye to eye, and that was alright.

"Hey, I told Rick I'd get the car ready with supplies, and I still need to do that," Daryl said after a while.

"I thought you were only going for the day," Aaron replied.

"That's the plan, but you know how it is. The main thing is extra gas and weapons. You want to come along?" Daryl asked.

"Sure," Aaron smiled as they stood from the couch. He went to the kitchen to see if they had any kind of food in the house that Daryl could take with him. That's when he saw Carol's cookies on the counter. "Oh," he called out to Daryl, who was in the office. "I forgot something."

"Yeah? What's that?" Daryl answered. He was looking for extra ammo for his gun. Aaron usually kept it in the desk drawer. When he turned around, Aaron was standing in the doorway holding up a pink cookie.

"I saw Carol today. She baked these for us. Well, she baked them for everyone. I ran into her earlier today."

Daryl looked at the cookie with skepticism. "Why's it pink?"

"Beets," Aaron told him, and he shrugged his shoulders. He held to cookie out to Daryl.

"Naw, that's ok. I've never been much of a baked goods kind of guy. I prefer my meat and potatoes."

Aaron went to Daryl, slinked his arm around to his backside and squeezed. "Yes, you certainly do," Aaron said seductively. His eyes wandered down the length of Daryl's body and back up.

"Stop," Daryl said unconvincingly.

Aaron took a step back. "You should at least take a bite. She's going to ask me what you thought, and I don't want to have to lie."

Daryl pinched off a small piece and ate it. "Not bad, but . . ." He made a sour face.

Aaron nodded. "Yeah, I know. I tried one earlier. Guess I'll have to lie after all." He closed the container and took it back to the kitchen. Daryl found what he was looking for and met Aaron at the front door. They left and while they were walking down the street, Aaron spoke again. "Have you seen Carol?"

"Not since before we went up to the cabin. Why?" Daryl inquired.

"I don't know. She seemed a little different, distracted maybe. She's trying really hard, at least it seems that way. Still, I'm a bit worried about her."

"Yeah," Daryl mumbled. "She's been through a lot, probably more than she leads on. I know Carol, though. She's tough. She has to be."

"Maybe when you get back you should speak with her. I feel as though she really needs someone to talk to, and you two are close."

Daryl nodded. "Sure, I'll do that."

A smile escaped Aaron's lips. "On a lighter note, I think there's something brewing between her and Tobin."

Daryl turned his head to the side to look at Aaron, surprised by this information. "How do you know?"

"I was passing by Tobin's house, saw Carol and him talking … smiling at each other too," Aaron said.

"That don't mean nothing," Daryl commented.

"And then I called her out on it, and I think she likes him too, but she's … scared, I guess."

"As far as I know, she hasn't been with anyone since her husband, and that was a pretty shitty situation."

"Well," Aaron suggested. "Maybe when you talk to her, you can bring up the Tobin situation and–"

"Ah hell no," Daryl interrupted, shaking his head. "I draw the line at relationship advice. She's gonna have to figure that one out on her own."

Aaron threw his hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright. I guess that's asking too much. But I wish you really would talk to her about whatever's bothering her. Something is keeping her from allowing the world in. She's very closed off. Kind of reminds me of you when we first met, so you know what she's going through. And don't forget that she was there for us during those … difficult days."

Daryl knew what Aaron was talking about. It was back when Aaron lost his memory and he didn't remember being Daryl's lover. Eric had complicated things too, and had Aaron believing they were still a couple. Carol was always around to talk to and get advice from. So was Denise, Daryl thought, and then he remembered her request to bring back a soda, not for herself, but for Tara. Perhaps Daryl helped, but in his own way. He was uncomfortable talking to other people about relationships, and preferred not to touch the subject. He had a difficult enough time sorting out his own relationship with Aaron, coming to terms with his feelings and whatnot. But he could take requests, find things to help someone fulfill a wish that will make another happy. He wondered if there was something he could bring Carol that would cheer her up. If there was, she'd never mentioned it, and he couldn't think of anything. He knew Carol though. Just being there for her, an ear to bend or a shoulder to weep on was enough. She really didn't talk to anyone else but Daryl, and she wasn't telling him everything either. "I'll talk to her," Daryl finally said.

"Good," Aaron smiled. "And don't forget to compliment her cookies," he jested.

Daryl just rolled his eyes and kept walking.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33 A New Face**

Daryl had told Aaron he would be back home by sundown. He left early in the morning with Rick to look for medical supplies, and a few other odds and ends that people had asked for as they headed out on their run. When it was getting close to the end of the day, Aaron went out to the gate and joined Abraham on the lookout platform. He wanted to be there when Daryl came home. Today more than any other, Aaron was missing him. Maybe it was because they had spent the previous day making amends, and the night making love. It felt as though they had rekindled something they hadn't felt since first admitting their feelings for each other. Aaron wasn't ready to move forward from that just yet. He needed more of Daryl in his arms, in their bed, tangled in sheets and each other.

The sun had set a couple hours ago, and Aaron was beginning to worry. He wasn't sure why. Daryl had gone out on runs before, and Aaron didn't suffer the anxiety he felt now. He just felt a bad vibe ever since the Wolves broke the walls and the walkers got in. What bothered him even more was that group of bikers that Daryl took down. They weren't Wolves. Daryl had said they worked for someone named Negan. Of course, Daryl wasn't worried. He blew up the small gang that tried to steal their stuff. The threat was erased as far as he was concerned. Daryl told Aaron that if this Negan character couldn't take care of his own business, then he was probably some sorry-assed chicken shit bitch that couldn't do his own dirty work. The message had been clear. Daryl wasn't playing games any more. If anyone got in his way, they would regret it.

Aaron stood on the platform next to Abraham, both men armed with rifles as they patrolled the main gate. They didn't talk much. Abraham was concentrating on the dark before him. Aaron's mind was wandering to bad case scenarios. He sighed … again … for about the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

"They might be spending the night out there," Abraham said. "Rick told me a night or two, and not to come looking for him before thirty six hours were up."

"Yeah, that's what Daryl told me too. He also said he was confident he'd be home by now. They weren't going any further than it would take them to get home today."

"I'm sure they'll be back soon," Abraham said to try to comfort Aaron.

Aaron nodded and they fell back into silence for a while longer. Abraham started fidgeting, as though he was uncomfortable. The first thing Aaron thought was that he was uneasy because of Aaron. Abraham was a military man, a man's man, as straight as they came. Sometimes men like that didn't know how to behave around a gay man, although Abraham had never shown signs before. Aaron and Abe hadn't spent much time around each other either, at least not alone like this. Aaron mentally shook his head. Even now, with the world in disarray as it was, people still looked down on homosexuals.

"Can I ask you something?" Abraham said, breaking the silence.

"Sure." Here it comes, Aaron thought to himself. Was Abe going to give the old lecture, 'how the hell can you let a man stick his—'

"How hard was it for you to break up with Eric … you know … when you and Daryl … you know?" Abraham asked.

Well, that was unexpected, Aaron thought. "It was very difficult, but I knew I had to make the right choice and follow my heart."

"So, how did you do it? Did you just straight up tell him it was over, and then came the ugly crying? Or did you break it to him gently?"

"I don't think there was anything gentle about it. It was one of the most difficult things I've had to do. There's not many of us left. And by us, I mean gay men," Aaron told him.

"Well, just because there's more straight people than gay doesn't mean it's any easier," Abraham mumbled.

Aaron glanced across the platform to Abe. "What's going on? You splitting up with Rosita?"

His expression grew hard and he shuffled from one foot to the other. "No. No," he denied with a shake of his head. Then his shoulders rounded as he shrugged. "I don't think so, anyway. We've been together for a long time. She's helped me through a lot, and I like to think I've helped her too."

"That's kind of how it was for Eric and me," Aaron admitted.

"And that all changed when you met Daryl?" Abe asked.

Aaron could see that Abraham was genuinely interested, so he decided to open up a little. "I knew from the first time Daryl and I talked to each other that there was something very special between us. I don't think even Daryl knew at the time. It was so much more intense than anything I'd ever felt towards Eric. It's kind of bittersweet. Here's this person who makes you feel whole, and your heart is jumping out to them, but you know that to pursue it you're going to destroy someone else's hopes and dreams. Makes you feel like a selfish prick, I'll tell you that much."

"Yeah, I get that one hundred percent, but then again, I'm used to being a dick. Comes with the package."

Aaron knew Abraham had grown interested someone else. Maybe he hadn't acted on it yet, but his heart was reaching out to another, and it wasn't Rosita anymore. "Listen, it's never been an easy thing to do, to break it off with someone. It's even more difficult in these times. But one thing hasn't changed. You have to be true to yourself. It's easy to find someone to warm your bed at night, but if you find someone that warms your heart … buddy … you better hold on to that and not let go. That's worth fighting for every time."

Abraham's mustache twitched as he considered Aaron's advice. "I hear you loud and clear."

"Anytime," Aaron smiled. Now he was curious as to who Abe was talking about. He wouldn't ask, though. Abraham wasn't giving that information freely. It was probably because he hadn't told this person his feelings, and he was still involved with Rosita. This kind of situation had to be handled carefully with well thought out intensions. Poor Rosita, Aaron thought. She would be devastated. Hopefully, Abe would let her down easy, if he decided to pursue this other person.

Just as they got done with their conversation, they saw headlights coming up the road that led to the main gate. "That's them," Aaron said anxiously.

"I'll go down and open the gate," Abraham volunteered. As he passed to get to the ladder, he slapped Aaron on the back. "Thanks, man."

Aaron watched as Abraham unlocked the gate. The car was approaching fast, and it didn't stop as they drove inside. Usually, they parked the car just within the gate. Aaron started to get nervous by this suspicious behavior. It was dark, and he couldn't see inside the car as it passed, but it kept going further into town.

"Shit," Aaron muttered. He was already on his way down the ladder. Abraham was just locking the gate back up. "They say anything?" Aaron called.

"No," Abraham answered. "What the hell's going on?" he said irritated.

"They didn't park the car. That can only mean one thing," Aaron said. "Someone's hurt and they're going straight to the infirmary." He hesitated, not sure whether he should go or stay on duty with Abraham.

"You'd better hurry after them," Abraham decided for him. "I've got the gate. Still have a couple hours left on patrol."

Aaron nodded. "Alright." He took off at a jog to catch up and meet Daryl and Rick at the infirmary.

By the time he got there, he could see Rick and Daryl. Neither one looked to be hurt, but they were carrying a third man into the infirmary. Rick was knocking on the door, and Denise came out in her pajamas. She opened the door wide and stood to the side. Rick and Daryl carried the body inside. Aaron rushed across the street and barged into the office. There he found Rick and Daryl standing on either side of a cot, and a man with long hair and a beard laying upon it. The stranger was dressed in a trench coat, a wool cap and combat boots. Rick took the man's hat off and tossed it on a chair. Denise was leaning over him, checking for signs of injury.

"Daryl?" Aaron said from the doorway. When Daryl looked up, Aaron rushed to him, clasping a hand on either side of his shoulders. "What happened? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he answered with irritation.

Aaron looked back to the man on the cot. "Who's this?"

"This is just some asshole that was giving us a hard time." Daryl glared down at the unconscious man. "I ought to beat his ass while he's out of it. Motherfu–"

"Daryl," Rick said from the other side of the cot. There was a certain amount of authority in his voice, and Aaron suddenly saw him for the cop he used to be. "Now's not the time."

"W-what happened? Where'd you find him?" Aaron wondered with curiosity.

"He ran into us … literally. We were checking a store for supplies when he came running around the corner, and crashed right into us," Rick answered. "He was clean, well groomed, and he had no weapons."

"That's strange," Aaron said.

"He had to have come from a camp somewhere, but he wasn't talking. Neither were we," Rick told him.

"Yeah, until Rick asked him the questions," Daryl said with anger.

Aaron looked over at Rick. "I thought you said we weren't recruiting anymore."

"We're not," Daryl answered.

Rick looked at him. "That's still open for discussion."

Daryl glared at Rick. "You'd bring this prick in here after what he did?"

"What did he do?" Aaron asked.

"It wasn't that big a deal. All he did was–" Rick started to explain, but Daryl took over for him.

"He stole all our stuff," Daryl said with ire. "He tricked us with a handful of firecrackers, lifted the keys to the van, and took all our shit. Motherfucker's just like all those other assholes out there. Too damn lazy to go looking for their own stuff so they steal it from us. Well, I'm sick of losing my goddamn shit to dickheads like this one."

Aaron shook his head with confusion. "Wait. What truck?"

"We found a truck full of supplies," Rick explained. "Packed to the roof with all kinds of things."

Aaron couldn't help notice that they didn't drive any truck through the gate. Daryl told him why. "This douchebag took it, but we got it back. Tied his ass up and left him on the side of the road, but somehow he got out of his ropes and . . ." He paused and shook his head. "Son of a bitch was on the roof. We got him down, and then he tried taking the truck again. Had me playing tag in the middle of a field. Next thing I know, the truck is in gear and heading towards a lake. This stupid fucker get knocked out by the door as it's rolling by, and now our truck is sitting at the bottom of the lake, and it's all his fault."

Denise got done examining the man. "I don't think he's seriously hurt. He might have a slight concussion, and he'll probably have one hell of a knot on his head. Other than that, I think he's fine."

"He won't be when he wakes up because I'm gonna beat the shit out of him," Daryl mumbled as he scowled at the man.

Rick ignored Daryl's threat this time, and went to Denise. "We need to lock him up somewhere until he wakes up. Where's that basement Morgan had the Wolf held up in?"

"I'll show you," she said.

Rick and Daryl picked the man up by his arms and legs, and carried him out of the infirmary, down a few houses to the unfinished townhomes. Denise showed them the place, and they took him downstairs. They left him a bottle of water, some of Carol's cookies, and a note. In the morning, they would be back to check on him and interrogate him to find out where he came from.

"I'm going home," Rick said. "It's been a long day."

Daryl and Aaron agreed and everyone left the basement, locking the door behind them. By the time they got home, Daryl had cooled off a bit, but he was still frazzled by the stranger. Aaron, on the other hand, was ecstatic about the discovery of another survivor.

"Do you really think he's from another community?" Aaron said excitedly.

"Rick seems to think so, and he's got a point. The guy looked like a hobo, but he was clean. He's got a place to wash up."

"I want to be there when you talk to him in the morning," Aaron said as he rubbed Daryl's shoulders. Daryl was sitting on the edge of their bed, and Aaron was on his knees behind him, digging his thumbs into hardened tensed shoulder muscles.

"You'll have to clear that with Rick first, but I don't think it will be a problem. Then, as soon as we find out where he's from, I'm gonna be the one to kick his ass out of Alexandria," Daryl said, still angry.

"No, I think we should meet with his people, only if he seems like he's on the up and up."

"And what if they're a bunch of psychopaths like those bikers me, Abe and Sasha came across. What if those were his people I blew up. Maybe this guy is out for revenge. Now he knows where we live," Daryl argued.

Aaron shook his head in disagreement. "I don't think so. Rick wouldn't have brought him here if he thought that. Did the guy ever try and attack you? Did he threaten your life at all?"

Daryl hesitated before he answered. "Actually, he saved me."

"Well see there? He can't be–"

"And then he tried to take the damn truck again," Daryl interrupted in a raised tone. "Point is, I don't trust this guy. He's out there alone, walking around without a weapon, pulling some kind of Ninja moves, playing school boy tricks. What the fuck is that about? And then … get this … he said his name is Jesus. Really? You feel that confident about yourself? Nope. I don't trust him one bit."

Aaron finished rubbing Daryl's shoulders. He wasn't going to relax tonight so there was no point. Instead, he laid back on the bed and pulled the covers over him. "Well, he's locked up for tonight, and tomorrow we'll find out more about him. Come on." Aaron patted the sheets on Daryl's side.

"I'm too wound up to sleep. I think I'm going to go downstairs for a bit." Daryl got up and went to the bedroom door.

"Daryl, come to bed," Aaron pleaded.

Daryl turned to look at Aaron and gave a partial smile. "In a while."

Aaron sighed as he watched Daryl leave the bedroom. Sometimes that man could be so damn stubborn, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It was still dark when Aaron woke up, but he knew the sun would rise soon. He looked over and Daryl's side of the bed was empty. "Already up and out," Aaron mumbled quietly. He didn't want to get out of bed yet, but there were things to do today. So Aaron got up and dressed. He went downstairs to make a cup of coffee, and remembered there wasn't any. Then he opened the fridge, finding it mostly empty. There was half a jar of homemade peach jam, so he took it out and checked it for freshness. It was still good. Aaron knew there was a sleeve of soda crackers in the pantry, and decided that would have to do for his breakfast. Things were looking meek, and with colder weather coming in the next couple months, he wasn't sure what they would do for food. It was about to become a real problem. Without enough food they would become weak, and if they were attacked again, they might not be strong enough.

Aaron thought about what Daryl said last night. This stranger that called himself Jesus, was he a problem? Were there people out looking for him? Could Alexandria be on the verge of another attack? Daryl brought up a good point, but Aaron's instincts told him this guy was used to going out on his own. Daryl told him in detail how Jesus tricked him and Rick into stealing the truck full of supplies. It was a well thought out plan. The man was smart and stealthy. He knew how to get himself out of a stuck situation and quickly, which meant he'd done this kind of thing many times over. It seemed like he was the type of person who always had a plan. Because of this, Aaron didn't think anyone would come looking for him. He was self-sufficient, and his group probably knew that. Aaron was confused as to why the man didn't carry a weapon, though. That seemed like a dangerous choice.

Aaron ate his crackers and jam, and stepped out onto the front porch to wait for the sun to come up. That's one thing he missed, watching a beautiful sunrise. With the houses so close together and the walls that surrounded the town, there was no place to watch the sun break the horizon. The cabin was a good place to watch as it rose over the trees on the far side of the lake. Aaron wished he was there now with Daryl.

He was standing at the top of the steps, hands tucked in his pockets, when he noticed light filtering into the street a few houses down. That was Rick's house. Aaron guessed he was already up, getting ready to head to the townhouses and begin the interrogation. Daryl was probably with him, and Aaron wanted to be there too. He had a lot of questions for the stranger, but he mostly wanted to know about his camp. As he wondered, he thought of Eric and his strong belief that there were other communities out there, not just half-assed camps in the woods. Aaron still held onto the promise he made to Eric, as he lay dying in the street. He would keep looking, and maybe Jesus knew of such a place, if he wasn't from one himself.

After waiting a while for Rick and Daryl to come out of the house, Aaron began to wonder what was taking them so long. The lights were still on, but they were fading as the sun came up. Everyone was pretty conservative when it came to electricity. The generators were operating on borrowed time, since they were actually only prototypes and weren't free of bugs and glitches. Aaron decided he was tired of waiting, and started out to meet the men at Rick's house. When he got there, he saw through the frosted glass on the door, Abraham and his red short shaven hair, as though he was blocking the entrance. Aaron tried the doorknob, and Abe turned to let him in. He glared at Aaron for a brief moment, and then cocked his head, gesturing for Aaron to come in quickly.

Aaron was confused at first, when Abraham led him to the dining room table, where Daryl, Glenn, Maggie and Carl were all standing around the man known as Jesus, who was sitting at the table, hands folded and resting on top. He looked at Aaron when he approached the group, and locked eyes with him. Aaron felt a little uncomfortable, since he'd never met the man before. Jesus smiled kindly and nodded.

"Hello," he said, his voice gentle and calm.

Daryl was standing behind him, holding a gun at his side, and lifted it, shoving the barrel into Jesus' back. "I said no talking."

Obviously, something had gone wrong, Aaron thought. "What's happened?" he asked anyone who wanted to fill him in.

"Apparently, this sack of shit broke out of the basement and snuck in here after Rick," Daryl informed him.

"I told you," Jesus said. "I wasn't trying to hurt–"

"Shut up," Daryl demanded.

"Where's Rick?" Aaron asked with much concern.

Maggie answered him. "He's alright. He's getting dressed."

Aaron had seen Carl, who left the group to get something from the kitchen, but he didn't see Michonne, who he knew lived in the downstairs bedroom. "Michonne?" he asked, again, anyone willing to talk.

Glenn bowed his head and tried to hide a smile. "Getting dressed," he answered.

Just then, Michonne and Rick came down the stairs together, and Aaron understood the reason for Glenn's impish grin. So, another couple had been established. That was actually a good sign. It meant people were finally feeling comfortable enough to try something normal, instead of always being on edge with worry. Aaron suddenly felt a little more at ease knowing that he and Daryl weren't the only ones in a serious relationship, if that was the case with Rick and Michonne. But there were other things to discuss right now.

Rick and Michonne sat on either side of Jesus and started asking him questions. First, they wanted to know how he got out. Again, he proved that he knew how to think quickly by noticing that there had only been one person guarding him last night. Seems he snuck out and exited from the third story window, which meant he would have had to get down somehow. Aaron was impressed, and had a brief but comical vision of his favorite comic superhero, Spiderman. Shit, he hadn't thought of his childhood in years.

The group spoke with Jesus some more, and they were told that he had indeed come from another community that called themselves the Hilltop, because of their great house that was situated on top of a hill. They had supplies and crops, and a decent amount of people. Jesus stole the truck because, like Alexandria, they were always in need of more supplies. Then he told Rick that he'd gone to the armory last night, and seen their well-stocked arsenal of weapons. This admittance made Daryl take a step towards the stranger, and Aaron noticed his hand that held the gun was twitching. Aaron decided to move next to Daryl to keep him calm. After learning about what happened in the woods when his bike and bow was stolen, Aaron knew Daryl had an itchy trigger finger when it came to people stealing from him, and he didn't trust Jesus at all. It worked, because Daryl's hand stopped moving when Aaron got close to him.

"I made a mistake," Jesus continued to convince Rick. "I can see that you are all good people, and that you have something special here in Alexandria. I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot, and I'd like to prove to you that my community is very much like yours."

"So, are we just supposed to take you at your word?" Daryl asked. He'd done that already, and he got screwed over.

"Come with me to Hilltop, and I will show you. I'll introduce you to our leader, Gregory. Perhaps we can work something out, have Alexandria join our bartering system," Jesus said confidently.

Rick glared at him. Michonne looked to Maggie and Glenn to see what their reaction was. Abraham remained stone faced, and Daryl was doing all he could to keep from punching this guy in the face. They were all considering Jesus' offer.

"How do we know it's not a trap?" Daryl finally asked.

Jesus leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "I'm sorry, but you don't. All I have is my word, and I know that's not enough for some of you. But if several of you come with me, I'll be outnumbered and you'll have control. Bring your weapons and your best warriors. Do whatever you need to do to feel safe, and I promise you'll see that I am telling the truth."

"You said you have a bartering system," Rick addressed him. "Are you saying there are other communities out there?"

Jesus smiled. "I'm sure you thought you were the only safe zone. Well, Rick, I'm here to tell you that your world is about to get a whole lot bigger."

At that point, everyone had questions for Jesus. They wanted to know what kind of people they had at the Hilltop, what kind of equipment, what they bartered with, and much more. Maggie and Glenn learned that they had a doctor, not that Denise wasn't qualified, but their man was a doctor for a long time before the world dissolved. And they had some medical equipment that no one thought would ever be seen again. They also had a blacksmith and crops. Rick finally agreed that they would take the RV and go to Hilltop to talk with their leader. Alexandria desperately needed to barter with Hilltop, mainly for food. They just needed to figure out what they had to trade for. Right now, Alexandria was rebuilding after the invasion. They didn't produce any kind of supplies or food. So far, they had only been trying to keep themselves afloat.

Aaron waited until everyone was done questioning Jesus and he was by himself before approaching. Jesus was standing by the fireplace, admiring the art that hung on the wall. He saw Aaron come up to him and smiled. "Hello again. We didn't get a proper introduction earlier. My name's–"

"Jesus, yeah, I heard," Aaron said for him.

"Well, yes, that's what my friends call me, but my real name is Paul. Paul Monroe." He held his hand out and Aaron shook it. "I didn't mean to imply that you're not a friend," he said awkwardly. "I'd very much like to be your friend."

Aaron smiled at Paul's sudden discomfiture. "You don't need to be nervous around us. Rick is a little intimidating," Aaron said looking back over his shoulder. Rick was speaking privately to Daryl across the room. "But once you get to know him, he's a great guy." He realized he didn't introduce himself. "I'm Aaron, by the way."

"Aaron. Nice to meet you." Paul looked at their hands, still in mid shake. "Guess you'd like your hand back." He laughed nervously. "So, uh, Aaron, what is it you do around here?"

"I'm the town recruiter. Most of the people in Alexandria are here because of me. Well, me and … um … Eric."

"Eric?" Paul asked.

"He was my … partner," Aaron said. He wasn't sure why he was telling Paul this, but he suddenly felt he needed to give credit where it was due. "So, Paul," Aaron glanced around him. "Is it really true? There's another community out there, one that's similar to ours."

"Very much so. You're not alone, Aaron. There are places that exist because we're just trying to bring some kind of normalcy back into the world," Paul confirmed.

Aaron looked to the side and smiled as he shook his head. "Well, I'll be damned. He was right."

"Who was right?" Paul asked, wondering who Aaron was talking about.

"Eric," Aaron answered, still wrapped up in his own thoughts. Eric would have been ecstatic to know he was right all along.

"Eric, your partner?" Paul inquired.

Aaron nodded. "My boyfriend," he said without thinking. It was an automatic thing to correct someone. Aaron had never been afraid to admit he was gay.

"Oh. By 'partner', you meant 'boyfriend'." Paul repeated, and there was a certain amount of disappointment in his voice that surprised Aaron.

"He … _was_ my boyfriend," Aaron corrected.

"Oh," Paul said with more enthusiasm.

Aaron's solemnness returned and he bowed his head. "He's … uh … he died."

Realizing the discomfort of where the conversation was going, Paul matched Aaron's tone. "I'm … I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Aaron bobbed his head as he looked at the floor. "He always said there had to be other survivors out there, and not just people staying alive. He believed that there were other communities thriving. One of the last things I promised him was to find out if there really were, and here you are. I wish he could be here and hear it for himself."

"You must miss him terribly," Paul told him to ease his sorrow.

"I do, but … well … at the time, we weren't … uh … together. We were just friends."

"But it still hurts, I'm sure," Paul said in that comforting voice Aaron had noticed when he first heard him speak. "So … um … it wasn't … uh … serious then?"

Aaron looked up and met Paul's eyes. He suddenly realized why Paul seemed so interested in him. "With Eric? Well, it was kind of complicated, but … no."

"Huh. Interesting," Paul said as his eyes started to flirt with Aaron's.

"Oh, but … um … you see–"

"Rick wants to speak with you," Daryl said with authority. Neither Paul nor Aaron had seen him approach. Now, Daryl stood behind Aaron in a protective stance. "Everything alright here?" he asked Aaron, but he kept his sight trained on Jesus.

"It's fine," Aaron told him, hoping Daryl wouldn't make a scene. "We were just talking about recruiting."

"Yes, Aaron tells me he's the lead man in the area. I'd be very interested to know how you went about it." Paul was ignoring the fact that Daryl was towering over them, watching every move Jesus made.

Daryl moved and stepped half way in front of Aaron. "Anything you want to ask him, you can ask me."

Paul's eyes switched to Daryl. "Oh, are you a recruiter too?" He held on to his smile as he spoke.

"He's my partner," Aaron relayed for Daryl.

"Ah," Paul said. "You must be the brawn in the team. I suppose it can be dangerous out there. So, Aaron does the asking and makes sure no one tries anything or–"

Daryl's brows furrowed as he glared at Jesus. "I'm his boyfriend," he admitted.

That set Paul's face in shock, and he took a step backwards. "You? You and Aaron are–"

"Yeah. We're gay. You got a problem with that? 'Cause if you do, you can go fu–" Daryl started on the defense.

"It's alright, Daryl. He's like us," Aaron said.

"I'm sorry," Jesus apologized. "I didn't mean anything by it. I was just surprised that … well … admit it, Daryl. You don't exactly look the part."

"Neither do you," Daryl retaliated. Then he huffed. "Shit, and I thought straight people were judgmental."

"Alright," Aaron butted in. "Paul, I believe Rick is waiting to speak with you."

"Yeah, don't want to keep the man waiting," Paul said. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Aaron," he smiled.

"Likewise," Aaron replied. He and Daryl watched Paul go to Rick, and disappear into the office to discuss matters.

Daryl turned to face Aaron. "Paul?"

"That's his real name. Paul Monroe. Nice guy."

"Mmph," Daryl muttered. "So, you on a real name basis with him now?"

Aaron leaned back to observe his partner. "Daryl Dixon, are you jealous?"

"Pff … of that asshole? Hell no." Daryl closed the distance between them and whispered. "And I didn't appreciate the way he was coming on to you, as if you're the only gay left on earth."

"Maybe he thought he was the last. Maybe we're the first gays he's seen since the outbreak," Aaron argued.

"Yeah, and I'm going to be the last gay he ever sees if I find him flirting with you again," Daryl threatened.

"I gotta say, I think I like jealous Daryl," Aaron jested.

"Stop," Daryl complained, and they decided it was time to go and get their day started.

* * *

The next day, Daryl was with Rick and Glenn getting the RV ready to make the trip to Hilltop. Jesus had told them if they left first thing in the morning, they could be back by suppertime. Today they would spend the day getting the RV in good working condition, as well as packing it up with a few supplies and weapons.

Aaron was out for a walk, wondering if he was going with the group to Hilltop. He hadn't been asked yet, but he knew he wasn't about to sit around and get left behind. He wanted to see this new community. He needed to see it. He needed to know and satisfy the ghostly guilt that followed him wherever he went.

As he was walking along, Caleb joined him. "Hey man, how's it going?" the youth asked with enthusiasm.

"Good. What have you been up to? I haven't seen much of you lately," Aaron asked.

"Oh yeah," Caleb said with excitement. "I've been talking to Glenn, and he's been teaching me about going on runs. He says I've got stealth and I'm flexible, so he's showing me how to get in and out of a place without getting caught."

Aaron had wondered about that. With Maggie pregnant, he thought Glenn might decide to stay closer to home. Up until now, he was their head guy. He had taught Tara, and now she was making runs with Heath, who was Alexandria's go to guy when it came to scavenging. They needed a third person who could go when Tara or Heath couldn't. But it was a dangerous job, and Aaron wasn't sure Caleb should be doing it.

"I don't know about this, Caleb. So many things can go wrong," Aaron worried. He had always felt a sense of responsibility for Caleb. After all, it had been him and Daryl who found the boy and saved him from a terrible fate.

"Things can go wrong anytime, anywhere. Look what just happened here. Yet, here we are. We made it through," Caleb countered.

"Well, I'm not your father. I can't make you listen. I can only hope you take my advice into account," Aaron said with slight worry.

"I know how bad it is out there, and Glenn is the best we have. I'm absorbing everything he tells me, but I can't get good at it unless I actually go out there." Caleb moved in front of Aaron so that they had to stop walking. He shuffled his feet as he looked at the ground, still showing signs of the boy who was quickly morphing into the man. "I … I know you're not my dad, and you've never tried to take up that role, but I still consider you like family, and I do listen to your advice when you give it. I just wanted you to know that."

Aaron smiled and felt a lump rise in his throat. Caleb was too old to ruffle the hair on his head anymore, so Aaron offered him a handshake instead. Caleb took it and shook, but then he pulled Aaron towards him and they hugged. "I'm really proud of you, Caleb," Aaron told him. "I don't think I've ever told you that. You've come a long way, and you've seen it through some pretty rough times. You've become a man right before my eyes, and I'm just honored to have been able to watch it happen. You'll do fine out there."

"Thanks," Caleb said in a muffled voice because of Aaron's grip on him. "But could you loosen your arms a bit. I can't breathe."

He was joking, of course, and Aaron pushed him away playfully. Then he pretended to throw punches at Caleb's stomach, and Caleb pretended to double over. Neither one noticed when Paul came up to them.

"Hey, save it for the biters," he said, and Aaron and Caleb stopped to see who it was.

"Oh, hi," Aaron said, out of breath. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, Rick let me off of probation, and said I could wander around the town." He glanced at Caleb and Aaron made introductions.

"Paul, this is Caleb. He's training to join our supply run team," Aaron said.

Paul offered his hand and Caleb shook. "Hey, good to meet you … uh … Paul?"

"Yeah."

"I thought your name was Jesus," Caleb said. "Everyone is talking about that … you know … making messiah jokes and all."

"I get a lot of that from people who don't know me. But yeah, my real name is Paul. You can call me by either name. I don't care. I answer to either one."

Caleb laughed. "Actually, Jesus is kind of cool. So is it true that you come from another community?"

"Yes it is. We call it Hilltop. It's not nearly as fancy as Alexandria, but it's well protected."

"What kind of people live there?" Caleb asked.

"All kinds. Young, old, married, single," Paul answered.

"Girls?"

Paul nodded. "A few."

"Any my age? I'm eighteen."

Aaron decided to jump in and end the inquisition. "Alright, that's enough. You'll find out soon enough. Some of us are going to Hilltop to introduce ourselves and–"

"Can I come?" Caleb asked enthusiastically.

"No you cannot. You have to stay here and help keep watch," Aaron demanded.

Caleb looked disappointed. "Alright. Maybe another day. Hey, nice to meet you, Jesus."

"Good to meet you too, Caleb. Hopefully I'll see you again," Paul said.

"Well, I gotta go find Glenn," Caleb announced.

"Why don't you come by later," Aaron told him. "I'll make you dinner."

"What are you having?"

Aaron shrugged. "I don't know, but I'll figure something out."

"Maybe another time. Save your rations for you and Daryl," Caleb said politely as he went off on his own.

Paul and Aaron watched him a moment before Paul spoke. "Good kid."

"He is," Aaron said with pride.

"Has he been here since the beginning?"

"No. Actually, Daryl and I came across him. He'd been taken by some men." Aaron paused as he remembered the horrible scene. "Some really bad men. We got him away and brought him here. He's done well, considering all the tragedy that happened."

The two men stood there awkwardly. "Mind if I tag along?" Paul asked.

"Not at all. I'll show you around," Aaron offered.

"I was just checking out your security." Paul pointed to the walls. "That's nice craftsmanship. How'd you come up with the idea?"

"It wasn't me. The credit goes to a man named Reg. He was an engineer. His wife was in charge of Alexandria. She was an Ohio congresswoman. Deanna," Aaron reminisced. "They're the ones who got this place going."

"Where are they now?" Paul asked.

Aaron looked down with sadness. "They're gone."

"I'm sorry to hear it. They sound like good people."

"They were," Aaron said, forcing a smile. "And now this place has fallen into Rick's hands. Damn fine leader too. I think it was all meant to be."

They walked silently along the road in no hurry. Aaron took Paul to show him the generators and solar panels so he could see how Alexandria ran on minimal power. He didn't seem very interested in it though, and Aaron wondered why.

"So, how does Hilltop operate?" Aaron finally asked.

"Well, we don't have electricity. We cook over fire, light our homes by candle, which we make ourselves. We can what we harvest so that we have food through the winter. A few of the men hunt for game. The women keep our clothes from turning to rags. We scavenge a lot too, but lately it's been–" Paul cut himself short of finishing his sentence. "Well, let's just say, it's been getting harder to find things."

"We have the same problem, especially with food. Before the walkers stormed in, we had a good head start on canned goods. There's an orchard not far from here, and we found some warehouses with a lot of supplies. But most of our stock was ruined, and it's getting late in the season. Maggie started growing some vegetables, but it won't bring in much before the cold weather moves in. Luckily, Daryl is a pretty good hunter." Aaron was unconscious of the smile that escaped his lips, but Paul noticed.

"The two of you been together long?" Paul asked.

"A while now," Aaron answered tersely. He didn't want to tell too much of his personal life. Paul was still a stranger at this point.

"I'm sorry if I caused any problems the other day. I really had no idea that Daryl was … or that you two were–"

"It's alright. You couldn't have known. Daryl's not … uh … your typical … And he comes on kind of strong," Aaron stumbled to explain, and decided to change the focus of the conversation. "What about Hilltop? Is there someone waiting for you back home?"

"Unfortunately, no," Paul said sadly. "I'm somewhat of an enigma, but like Daryl, I hide it well. I don't have much time to think about it actually. There's always something more important to worry about."

"I'm sure eventually you'll meet someone," Aaron said, not knowing what else to say.

Aaron and Paul had walked all the way around and were now back at the front of town. Rick and Daryl were just stepping out of the RV. Glenn was wiping his hands on a rag and closing the front grill. They looked up and saw Aaron and Paul approaching. Rick and Daryl met them part way.

"Looks like everything's ready. We'll leave first thing in the morning," Rick said.

"Good. That's good news," Jesus smiled.

Rick stepped real close to Jesus and spoke while looking out into the distance. "Just remember, we will be fully armed. You try to screw us over and I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull."

"Nothing funny, I swear," Jesus promised. "We'll leave in the morning, and you'll be home by the evening meal."

Aaron pulled Daryl aside. "I'm going with you."

"No you're not," Daryl answered quickly.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't–"

"Listen to me," Daryl interrupted. "I need you here in Alexandria. We don't know anything about this guy or the place he comes from. We could very well be walking into a trap. Most of our strongest people are going, which I disagreed with, but Rick wouldn't listen to me. That leaves you, Carol and Sasha here to watch over things, and you'll know what to do if we don't return tonight."

Aaron stared angrily at Daryl, but knew he was right. "You know I don't like this."

"I know, but this is the way it's going to work. We will be home tonight, but if we don't come back–"

"Please don't talk like that."

Daryl glanced around, and pulled Aaron to the other side of the camper where no one would see them. Once he had Aaron alone, he took up his hand with a gentle grip. "It's going to be fine," he said. "I don't like this guy, but I think he's being honest. I don't like to admit that because I think he's an asshole, but he had ample opportunities to take out any one of us, and he didn't. I'm not saying he's not going to try something once we get to his place, and that's where I don't trust him. That and the fact that he keeps hanging around you when I'm not there," Daryl added, making Aaron uncomfortable.

"He apologized and he's been very cordial since his mistake. He even told me a little bit about Hilltop. They sound a lot like us, good people just trying to survive and make a new life," Aaron told him.

"Well, see there? If that's true, then we have nothing to worry about, and no reason for you to go along." Daryl kissed Aaron to finish convincing him everything would work out.

"Fine," Aaron agreed reluctantly. Daryl made a good argument though. Aaron would stay in Alexandria.

They came out from behind the RV and Paul was watching them. Their hands were still joined and Paul's eyes went straight to that. Aaron couldn't help notice the shadow of sadness and longing that flashed across Paul's face. Poor guy, he thought. It must be a very long time for him, since he'd had anything real.

Daryl immediately glared at Paul, making the man turn his eyes away. Aaron felt Daryl squeeze his hand before he released it. The exchange was over quickly, but Daryl got his point across. No one messed with Daryl Dixon or anything that belonged to him, and that included Aaron.

"Be careful," Aaron told Daryl. "And I love you."

"I will and I do too," Daryl answered. They were in the open where people could see and hear them. Daryl wasn't comfortable being exposed, but Aaron knew he still meant what he said, even if it sounded as though he was talking in code. "Gotta go."

Aaron nodded and watched Daryl enter the RV. He'd try not to worry, but he knew there would be no stopping his unsteady mind. It was going to be a long day, he thought to himself.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34 Dirty Deeds**

The RV had just pulled in, and everyone in Alexandria ran out to meet the group. Aaron was the first one there, of course. It had only been a day, but it seemed longer than that. Everyone was anxious to find out about Hilltop.

Rick stepped off the RV first, holding a crate full of canned goods. The excited voices of the crowd escalated as other people came from the camper holding more crates full of vegetables and fruit. One of them was a woman who helped Olivia in the pantry and the kitchen. "We're going to have to take care of those right away before they spoil."

"I'll help," answered a couple other women in the crowd, and the crates traveled from hand to hand in the direction of those women.

Glenn and Maggie came out, and Glenn had a goat on a leash. He wrapped his free hand around Maggie's waist. They were smiling from ear to ear, and she was rubbing her belly. Aaron went to them. "So? How'd it go?" he smiled with excitement.

"It was all true. They have all the things Jesus told us about, even the ultrasound machine," Maggie answered. She glanced down at her stomach.

"Do we know if it's a boy or a girl?" Aaron asked.

Maggie laughed. "It's way too soon, silly." Then she handed him a picture.

Aaron smiled as he looked at the ultrasound photo. "I don't know what I'm looking at, but it's still the best picture I've ever seen."

"The fact is," Glenn said, "we have access to a doctor, and most of the equipment we'll need to bring a baby into the world. You don't know how much of a load that is off my mind."

"When I'm getting close to my time, I'm going to stay at Hilltop until I deliver the baby. It's too far of a drive to wait until contractions start, just in case there are complications," Maggie added as Aaron handed her the picture.

"That's great. I'm so happy for you, for both of you." Aaron pulled Maggie in for a hug.

"Oh wow! A goat!" Caleb yelled as he ran up to them. "Is it ours?"

"Yep," Glenn said, handing the leash to the youth.

"Alright!" Caleb cheered. Then his face fell as a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, we're not going to eat it are we?"

"No," Maggie laughed. "She's for milk."

"I haven't had milk in a long time," Aaron mentioned.

"Right now, she'll only yield enough for cooking, but hopefully we'll have a male by springtime. Hilltop has just started breeding their livestock," Maggie explained.

Aaron laughed as he watched Caleb's excitement over the goat. "So, you had to ride with a goat in the camper for a couple hours?"

Glenn huffed and rolled his eyes. "Daryl bartered for a cow originally."

"And we're still going to get that cow too," Daryl said as he jumped out of the camper with a box full of fabric.

"Daryl," Aaron said, his face lighting up. He went to Daryl and took the box from him. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," he answered, but there was concern in his eyes and on his brow.

"What is it?" Aaron asked. He knew something was wrong.

Maggie pulled away from Glenn and looked over at Caleb, who was on his knees petting the goat. "Why don't you introduce her to the new livestock pen?"

"Sure thing." Caleb started to walk away, but he stopped and turned back towards them. "Can I be in charge of taking care of her?"

"Of course," Glenn told him. "But the first thing you need to do it give her a name."

"Cool. Thanks." Caleb trotted off with the goat.

Maggie, Glenn, Daryl and Aaron huddled around each other so no one else could hear them. Aaron didn't like their long faces. Not everything went smooth apparently. Maggie spoke first. "I met with their leader, Gregory. He's a real prick, by the way, but he knows how to barter. The fact is, we don't have any goods to trade for, so we had to come up with something else. It's how we got half of everything they own."

"You got half?" Aaron asked, surprised. "What the hell do we have to do?"

Daryl shifted closer to Aaron and whispered. "We're going to have to fight."

"Fight who?" Aaron wondered.

"You know those biker assholes I torched? Well, there's more of them. This guy, Negan, is supposedly their leader. They call themselves the Saviors, and go around threatening groups or communities, forcing them to cut a deal by killing one them. If they don't have anything to hand over, they absorb the group into their clan. They take a hefty portion of a groups supplies in exchange for protection from walkers or other threats. But really, they are the threat. It's nothing but bullshit if you ask me," Daryl explained.

"How many of these Saviors are there?" Aaron asked.

"No one knows how many people he has, but Jesus said he's seen a group as big as twenty," Glenn explained.

"Something happened while we were there," Maggie continued the story. "The Hilltop colony sends a group to deliver their goods to one of the Saviors' compounds. Supposedly, their load was light, and half of the group was killed. Then they took one man, Craig, hostage and told his brother to kill Gregory or they would kill Craig."

"Oh my God," Aaron said, appalled.

"The guy shot Gregory, but Rick stopped him, and in the process he killed the attacker," Glenn said. "Gregory's wounded, but he'll recover. Not the best way to become acquainted with a new community."

"Here's the deal," Maggie spoke. "Negan wants proof that Gregory is dead by having someone from Hilltop bring the head. Then they will release Craig. Not only was this our chance to barter for Hilltop's goods, but it's our way in to the Saviors' compound. I told Gregory that we would take out the Saviors and bring Craig home in return for half of their stuff. If it works out, we will be their protection from now on, and they will provide us with food until we can sustain ourselves. This should get us through the winter."

"We brought one of the Hilltop guys back with us," Glenn said. "His name's Andy. He was part of the delivery group. He's been inside the Saviors' compound many times, and knows his way around."

"If we can get him to draw us a map, then we'll have the advantage," Maggie added. "This is where we're going to have to make our stand. It's gotta be on their turf if we want to get our message across."

"Wait. We're going to fight the Saviors?" Aaron was trying to piece everything together.

"These are bad people," Daryl commented. "Jesus said when they introduced themselves to Hilltop, shortly after the walls went up, they told Gregory what they would do for him and what they wanted in return. Then they killed a Hilltop resident … a kid … just sixteen years old. Bashed his head in right in front of everyone." Daryl shook his head. He looked distraught. "We ain't losing no more."

Aaron knew what Daryl was thinking. Caleb was eighteen, and it could very well have been him if it had been Saviors instead of Wolves who came to Alexandria. "We're not just going to fight them, but we're going to have to kill them, aren't we?" No one said anything, but the glum looks they gave Aaron answered his question. "Then I'm going with you."

"No, you ain't," Daryl demanded.

"Look, you can't tell me–" Aaron started.

Maggie interrupted. "Rick has called a meeting at the church in an hour. Nothing has been decided yet, but if we do this, we're going to need every experienced fighter, and that includes Aaron." She directed her statement to Daryl.

He looked unimpressed, but he knew she was right. Still, Daryl didn't want Aaron getting involved in this. It was dangerous business, and it was going to be bloody. He knew Aaron could handle himself in a fight, but could he stomach the idea of murdering people? That's basically what they would be doing. The world had become 'kill or be killed', and they needed to take down Negan and his men before these Saviors found Alexandria.

He nodded reluctantly. "I'm gonna head on over to the church," he told the others, and they all went together.

* * *

Aaron was laying on the bed, listening to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. They had just gotten back from the meeting, and Daryl was getting cleaned up after a long day. He thought about Rick's plan. It was risky … very risky. He knew they would have to fight the Saviors, but to kill them while they slept? Aaron closed his eyes as he pondered the idea. He had killed before, but it was self-defense. However, to stab people in the head while they slept … the very thought sent chills up Aaron's spine. He knew that once he went there, he'd never be the same again.

He thought about the people they would be killing. What had they done before the outbreak? Perhaps they were lawyers or secretaries, mechanics or telemarketers. They had normal lives, going to a job every day, perhaps raising a family or empty-nesters ready to retire. Aaron would bet his left nut that most of those people would never have imagined they would be part of a crooked outfit like the one the Saviors were running. But the grid went down, the world went dark, and people gravitated towards more instinctual behavior. The old ways didn't count for shit anymore.

Aaron thought about what he might be doing by now if the outbreak never happened. Something he'd always wanted to do was spend a Gay Pride weekend in Key West, sitting under the palm frond roof of a tiki hut , drinking rum runners, and flirting with all the pretty tanned boys. Maybe he would have done that by now if the world didn't end. Maybe all those people at the Saviors compound would be doing the things they'd always wanted to do too. But the old world ended, and the new world formed them into something they never could have imagined being. Aaron had to remind himself that these people chose this way to live, whether by desire or by fear. It didn't matter, and he knew that they wouldn't hesitate to kill the Alexandrians, if given the chance.

It was too depressing to think about anymore, and Aaron went back to dreaming about warm salty breezes and a white hammock made of rope hanging between two palm trees. He closed his eyes, settled into his pillow and let a half smile sit upon his lips. He heard the bathroom door open, and smelled the clean scent of soap. The steam from the hot shower permeated the bedroom, making it feel more humid. He imagined it was the Florida heat, and could almost taste a fruity frozen drink on his tongue.

"What are you smiling about?" Daryl asked.

Aaron slowly opened his eyes, and found Daryl standing at the foot of the bed, water dripping from dark spikes of hair, chest still damp, and wearing only a white bath towel wrapped around his waist. "Dreaming of ocean breezes, and dark tanned beach waiters bringing me a steady flow of margaritas whenever I snap my fingers."

Daryl crawled onto the bed next to Aaron. "These waiters, are they coming on to you?"

Aaron smiled and stretched luxuriously. "Mmhmm, but only because they want a very … generous … tip."

"I bet they do," Daryl said as he straddled Aaron. Then he shook his wet head, sending water flying everywhere.

Aaron put his hands up to cover his face and laughed. "Daryl, stop. You're getting me all wet."

"Well we can't have that, can we? Here, let me help you out of those wet clothes." Daryl played along, and began unbuttoning Aaron's shirt. But half way through, his fingers slowed and he seemed to lose interest as something else invaded his thoughts.

Aaron reached for Daryl's still hands and squeezed. "Hey, you alright?"

Daryl didn't answer right away. He was looking down at the bed, but it seemed like he was looking through it. Eventually, he gave a nod and a grunt. "I just don't like this."

"Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing," Aaron said quietly.

Daryl nodded again, and his eyes turned to Aaron. "I've haven't … I've … never had to do something like this before. I mean, I've killed people, but that was because they were going to kill me first. It was self-defense, but this . . ." He paused and shook his head.

Aaron sighed deeply and sat up on his elbows. "If you think about, this is self-defense. If we don't do something now, people will die. We know these guys are out there. We know what they are capable of. If we sit with our hands in our laps, and the Saviors invade Alexandria, I'll feel more guilt over our people dying rather than theirs."

Daryl moved off of Aaron and laid on the bed next to him, looking up at the ceiling. "Yeah, I get your point. It's still a tough pill to swallow." He turned his head to look at Aaron. "Makes it even tougher to know you're going to be in on it. I wish you wouldn't go."

"I have to. You heard Rick. The best of us, he said, or are you going to argue that I am not one of the best," Aaron said with a partial smile.

"You know you're good," Daryl agreed.

Aaron's eyes traveled down the length of Daryl's body, still wrapped in a towel and nothing more. "How good am I?" he said seductively. He rolled onto his side and played with the edge of the towel where the corner was tucked in.

"Very good," Daryl growled, watching Aaron's hand slide across his stomach.

Aaron tugged at the towel. "Nice to know you approve. However, I don't want to lose my edge. You know, practice makes perfect and all that." The towel fell away on one side, partially exposing Daryl's nakedness. Aaron pushed the other side back, and began trailing kisses down his chest, licking and biting as he went lower. His lips glided along the line of soft dark hair, leading him to the object of his unending desire. Daryl was only half at attention, but coming to life with every lick of Aaron's tongue. Aaron's hand wrapped around the base, as he puckered his lips, and blew air along the hardening length. He brought Daryl standing when he took the magnificent cock into his mouth. Daryl's hands reached for Aaron's head, fingers running through his curly hair. Daryl kept his hair long like a lion's mane, but he loved the feel of Aaron's short hair tickling the palms of his hands erotically. Aaron swallowed him to the hilt, making Daryl's hips lift from the bed. His tongue tantalized the firm yet satiny flesh until it pulsated against the roof of his mouth. Daryl tried to drive himself deeper, but Aaron had complete control. He manipulated the man beneath him using only the talent of his mouth, another thing Aaron knew he was good at. When he knew Daryl was close, Aaron moan as though he himself was about to come, and sent electrifying vibrations that roused every nerve in Daryl's body. His entire being went rigid, and he cried out Aaron's name, a sound that embedded itself into Aaron's mind. 'I did that', he thought to himself, 'and no one else ever will.'

When he was sure Daryl was completely sated, Aaron came to rest at Daryl's side, and cleaned him with the towel. Daryl was still panting, but he wore an exhausted yet satisfied smile. "I don't think I'll ever understand how you manage to completely drain me like that, but … damn, you give the best blow jobs. I got nothing left."

"Good. That's how it's supposed to be," Aaron smiled, proud of a job well done.

"If you … give me a minute … I think I can–" Daryl panted.

"Don't worry about me. Tonight was all for you." Aaron kissed him.

Daryl kissed him back, tongues caressing. "Well, if you feel something coming up behind you in the middle of the night, I suggest you surrender immediately," Daryl groaned in his ear.

Aaron smiled at the titillating thought. "Mmm, you promise?"

* * *

The group was on their way to the Saviors compound, when Rick told Abraham to pull over. "Everyone hold tight. Glenn and I got something to do first. Keep watch. We'll be back."

Aaron noticed that Andy went with Rick and Glenn. He wondered what they were doing, but knowing Rick, it had something to do with their plans to storm compound.

"I'm going to check these woods," Daryl told him, and he took his rifle in his hands.

"Want me to go with you?" Aaron asked.

"Naw, you stay here and keep an eye out," Daryl told him, and he went into the tree line.

It was hot, especially standing around on the asphalt. Everyone seemed on edge, and there was a nervous vibe that surrounded the group. Aaron thought that he wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the idea of blatantly killing people in their sleep.

Some time had passed, and Daryl wasn't back yet. Aaron was beginning to worry when he saw someone coming towards them.

"Jesus, what the hell is that?" Aaron asked, disgusted by the sight approaching him. Glenn was walking up the road with three heads in his hands.

"You called me?" Jesus came up beside Aaron unexpectedly.

"Oh … uh … ha … I wasn't … uh," Aaron stammered.

Paul laughed. "I know. Sorry, I couldn't help myself. That joke's gotten old at the Hilltop."

"Yeah, I can see how that would happen," Aaron said, distracted by the way Glenn carried the heads dangling by their hair.

"You're one of the few people who call me by my real name, you know," Jesus mentioned, drawing Aaron's attention back to him. "Actually, there's only one other person now who calls me Paul."

"I can call you Jesus if you–"

"No," Paul interrupted. "Please, call me Paul." He smiled at Aaron, his bright blue eyes glimmering in the sun. He gazed at Aaron longer than was comfortable, but luckily Rick showed up to interrupt the awkwardness.

"So, Rick, what's with the walker heads?" Aaron asked.

"That's our ticket into the Saviors compound," Rick admitted. He walked off to meet Glenn and Andy.

Aaron looked around, avoiding eye contact with Paul again. He glanced towards the RV, parked on the side of the road. Maggie and Carol were talking to Gabriel. Rosita was standing in the grass near the trees, by herself. Aaron wanted to talk to her, but she had been very unresponsive to anyone's kindness since Abraham broke things off with her. Seems Abe took Aaron's advice. Unfortunately, he did it at a most inopportune time, last night, the night before the group headed off to the Saviors compound.

"I know it looks weird," Paul said. He and Aaron were still standing in the same place, watching from a distance as Glenn set the heads on the ground, and Rick and Andy studied them with a critical eye. "When Andy told you that the Saviors wanted Gregory's head in exchange for Craig, the Hilltop man being held hostage, he meant that literally. However, as you know, Gregory is not dead. He's nursing a gunshot wound back at Hilltop."

"Why can you just put a large rock in a bag and tell them it's done. We just need to draw the guards outside," Aaron said.

"They won't bring Craig out until they see their proof. Once we have Craig in our safekeeping, then we'll go inside after the others. But we need to take out the two guards first or they'll set off the alarm. All this has to go down outside the compound," Paul explained.

Glenn set the heads on the ground. Rick and Andy were studying them with a critical eye. Aaron walked up to observe the gruesome sight. He looked around for Daryl, but didn't see him. He wished he was there to witness the crazy act.

"That one," Rick said. "What do you think?" he asked Andy.

"It's pretty close," Andy answered, and Rick nodded. "Except for the nose."

Rick turned back around to look at Andy and the head. "What's wrong with the nose?"

Andy shook his head. "It's not Gregory's nose. Everything else could definitely pass."

Rick leaned down and picked the head up by the hair. He cocked his head to the side, like an artist visualizing his work. Then he proceeded to punch the nose. Everyone took a step back and watched Rick beat the walker face. "There," he said satisfied. He looked at Andy for his approval, but Andy wasn't convinced, and seemed rather disgusted.

"That's brutal, man," Andy said.

Rick wasn't in the mood. "Tell them he fought back and you punched him. That's how you injured your hand."

Eventually Andy agreed. The other two heads were tossed into the bushes, and it was time to get on their way again. Paul walked with Aaron back to the RV. "Rick is a no nonsense kind of guy, isn't he?"

Aaron nodded. "He made a deal with your people, and he won't break it. You can trust him. You can trust all of us."

"I trust you," Paul told him. "So if you say Rick is good at his word then I'll believe it."

Aaron smiled slightly at the compliment. "Why? Why do you trust me so easily?"

Paul smiled wide and shrugged. "You're Alexandria's recruiter. And you're the one who brought Rick and his group into your community. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't think he was a good person. Takes one to know one." He grasped Aaron's shoulder just as Daryl broke out of the trees.

Daryl's eyes narrowed as he approached them. As soon as Jesus spotted him, he pulled his hand away. Daryl went to Aaron. "Can I have a word with you?' he asked.

"Sure," Aaron said and turned to Paul. "Tell the others it's time to go."

Daryl and Aaron walked a little bit away from everyone before they spoke. "What's up?" Aaron asked.

"What did he want?" Daryl said in an accusing tone.

"He was just looking for reassurance in trusting Rick to follow through with the plan. I told him there was nothing to worry about on this end," Aaron told him.

Daryl grunted and watched Jesus gather up the other people. "I don't like how he's always coming up to you when I'm not around. I don't trust him."

Aaron huffed cynically. "Daryl, come on. You don't really think he–"

"Yes, I do," Daryl interrupted. He stood in front of Aaron to gain his full attention. "He's got no one back at the Hilltop. Then he comes here and … whether you see it or not, he's latching onto you. It might be all just friendly conversation right now, but he's … I don't trust him around you, that's all."

"Do you trust me?" Aaron said, looking into Daryl's eyes.

Daryl nodded. "Of course."

"Then that's all you need to know." Aaron's hand rested on Daryl's chest. "I'd never let anything or anyone jeopardize that."

"Alright," Daryl agreed, convinced that Aaron understood what was going on. That was enough to make him feel more secure about the situation.

* * *

Andy told Rick where to stop the RV before getting too close to the Saviors compound. Following behind them was Tara, Gabriel and Jesus in the delivery van that the Hilltop people used. From here, Andy would take the van and the head, and drive to the compound. The rest of the group would follow on foot, navigating the woods and using them as cover.

As they walked along, Daryl and Aaron overheard Carol complaining to Rick about Maggie being present. They couldn't hear everything that was said, but Carol was definitely uneasy with the situation. Aaron didn't much like it himself, but it was Maggie's choice. Daryl kept a close eye on Carol, and once she broke away from Rick, he approached her.

"What's going on?" Daryl asked.

"Nothing," she said in an angry tone.

"Don't sound like nothing to me," Daryl coaxed, keeping up with her fast stride. As he walked with her, he had to occasionally duck to miss a low hanging branch, or jump to the side to avoid stumbling over the undergrowth.

Carol huffed with annoyance. "I just don't understand why Rick didn't put his foot down this time. Maggie should be home not here."

"She's hanging back," Daryl explained to side with Maggie. "She's not going into the compound with the rest of us."

"It doesn't matter," Carol argued. She was unusually moody, and Daryl couldn't remember her ever behaving like this before. "She shouldn't be thinking about just herself anymore. Maggie has more important priorities now, but she can't see it yet. I see it. I've been there. A woman in her condition has greater responsibilities." Carol stared Daryl in the eyes. "She shouldn't fucking be here."

"Don't start yelling at me. I'm not the one who let her come along," Daryl defended himself.

"Hey," Aaron said, coming up next to them. "Guys, we can argue about this later. Carol, if you're that worried about Maggie, perhaps you should stay with her. Two sets of eyes are better than one."

Carol was still glaring at Daryl as she answered Aaron. "Fine. We'll hang back and keep an eye on the area while the rest of you go inside." She agreed quickly. Then she broke away from the men and went to find Maggie.

"What the hell has gotten into her?" Daryl asked as he watched her walk away.

"I told you she was behaving strangely. Did you ever talk to her?" Aaron accused.

"No, I haven't had the time," Daryl said.

"I don't know. I'm not an expert, but I think Carol is starting to have personal issues lately. I told you about her and Tobin, and how she said she didn't' think she was worthy of his attention. She's struggling with something, and whatever it is, I don't think she's ever told anyone about it."

"There's definitely something wrong. She's not her usual cheery self," Daryl noticed. "Probably better that she hangs back." Daryl stopped Aaron from taking another step. "And speaking of which–"

"I'm not staying outside, Daryl. I'm going in with you," Aaron argued.

"Then stick close to me. We'll clear the place together." Daryl couldn't win once Aaron had his mind made up.

"No more noise beyond this point," Rick warned everyone. "We're close."

Not much further up, they stopped and took their positions in the undergrowth. They could hear the engine of Andy's van running and then shut off. Suddenly, everything was lit up brighter than the sun. A man's voice came over a loudspeaker, warning the person in the van to say who he was and state his business. Andy complied, and told them he had the package.

Aaron could see the building. It had a huge satellite on its roof, some kind of station obviously. He wondered if it had been military or something else. Whatever it was used for, it wasn't good for anything but shelter now.

"He's out of the van," Rick whispered to Daryl. "Keep your eyes open and get ready."

Daryl nodded and glanced at Aaron. "Remember, anything happens, you abort the mission with everyone else."

"Yeah," Aaron agreed just to make Daryl happy. The truth was, if anything happened to Daryl, Aaron wouldn't hesitate to run in with guns blazing. He wouldn't tell Daryl that though.

Now came the most difficult part of the plan, as everyone watched Andy take the head out of the bag and show it to the two guards. The shorter man examined it for the longest time. He didn't look convinced, and the group thought their plan was about to go awry. Then, after what seemed like hours, the man smiled and laughed as he made fun of the fake Gregory head. He told Andy he'd done good, and sent the second guard inside to retrieve Craig, the Hilltop hostage.

"Now! Now! Now!" Rick whispered intensely.

While Andy was keeping the first guard's attention, he never saw Daryl sneak up from behind. Daryl grabbed the man's head, pulled it back and slit his throat. Before the blood or the body could reach the ground, Aaron and Glenn rushed in and carried the guard back to the bushes where they were hiding. Michonne grabbed his gun that he'd dropped, and all evidence was gone. In a matter of seconds, it was just Andy standing alone waiting for the second guard to come out.

The second guard emerged from the building with Craig, making fun of him for being scared. He shoved Craig towards Andy before he realized the other man was missing. He asked where his partner went. Andy shrugged, and at the same time, the second guard realized something was wrong. It was too late, and he looked down to find the point of a sword protruding from his chest. Again, Aaron and Glenn ran in and took the dead guard away to the bushes, along with any other evidence of his existence. Craig looked terrorized, hands tied and a gag in his mouth. Andy went to him and told him everything was alright. They were going home. They went back to the van, and drove out of sight where Tara, Gabriel and Jesus waited.

With Craig safely away from his captors, it was time to storm the compound. Now, everyone hugged the wall, guns, knives or swords at the ready. On Rick's signal, they entered the building with quiet stealth. They had a good idea of where they were, thanks to Andy and his knowledge of the layout of the place. They still weren't sure where the armory was, but they had a good guess. That was their goal, along with having to kill everyone inside the compound. They went in pairs, clearing each and every room as they went. Daryl and Aaron were not paired together. Daryl went with Rick and Michonne, leading the way. Aaron was with Rosita. Glenn and Heath partnered together, and Abraham was with Sasha. As they went, Daryl kept looking to see where Aaron was. He wasn't distracted by this, but he just needed to know in case something went wrong. He saw Rosita and Aaron go into a room, and wished he was with them. His worry was undeniable.

The room Aaron and Rosita entered was empty. It was only a momentary sense of relief to know he wouldn't have to kill someone. Of course, the next room might prove otherwise. His stomach was in knots at the thought, but he had to ignore it. This had to be done. There was no other choice. As he followed Rosita to the next room, Daryl flashed through his memory. Seeing him kill that guard without an ounce of mercy, without hesitation was something he hadn't seen before. He had seen Daryl kill men, but they were trying to kill him. That guard never knew what happened to him. Still, Aaron knew it was necessary in order to protect themselves, the people of Hilltop and Alexandria.

Rosita opened the next door and looked inside. She nodded to Aaron, signaling to him that there were occupants inside. Aaron nodded back and gripped the handle of his knife. This was it. There was no turning back. They eased silently through the door. Two men slept soundly in their beds. Rosita went to the one furthest into the room. Aaron took the man closest to the door. They positioned their knives, hovering just above the sleeping men's heads. Rosita began to count, mouthing the numbers one, two, but before she got to three, Aaron held up his finger to halt her. She furrowed her brows in frustration, thinking that Aaron was backing out. He mouthed the words, 'one moment', and Rosita looked angry. The longer they took, the better the chance these men would sense their presence and wake up. Aaron tried to swallow, but his mouth was as dry as a drought. He gripped the handle of his knife with both hands, knowing it would take extra effort to knife a fresh skull compared to the rotting head of a corpse. He raised the knife up, took a deep breath and noticed a picture taped to the wall next to the cot. It was the man he was about to kill with his wife and child. In the background was Cinderella's Castle. The little girl, wearing a red dress with white polka dots, held a Mickey Mouse shaped balloon, and was smiling from ear to ear. It was a glimpse of life as it used to be, as it still should have been. This man was a father and a husband, had probably lost them to the outbreak. Had he seen them turn? Did he have to kill them? It was too much for Aaron, but he knew he had a job to do. Whoever this man was, he wasn't that person anymore. A tear tried to escape as Aaron closed his eyes. He used every last ounce of will he had and lifted his knife again. Just as he was about to do it, someone grasped his arm. He froze and his eyes flew open.

Daryl had seen Aaron and Rosita enter the room, and he knew they had been in there longer than they needed to be. Worried that something had gone wrong, he entered the room, and that's when he found Aaron struggling to kill the sleeping Savior man. He knew that to do this meant losing a piece of one's soul. Killing someone when they were most vulnerable was murder, no matter whether or not these men would have done the same thing. Daryl couldn't stand to see Aaron struggling with his humanity, and that's why he intervened. He shook his head as Aaron looked at him, telling him not to go through with it. Aaron backed away and let Daryl do what he couldn't. Daryl glanced at Rosita as they both raised their knives. With a nod, they simultaneously sunk their blades into the heads of the sleeping men. Aaron watched with horror, but also with sorrow that Daryl had to do this for him. He thought he was strong enough. He thought he'd blocked out the emotions, but that photo … it had gotten to him.

Rosita went to Aaron and patted his shoulder, no longer angry with him. Then she went to the door and looked out into the hall. Daryl wanted to comfort Aaron, ask him if he was alright, but they weren't supposed to say a word while in the compound. The slightest whisper might alarm someone. Instead, Daryl hooked his finger under Aaron's jaw and lifted his head until they made eye contact. Daryl raised his eyebrows and nodded in question. Aaron understood the gesture, sighed and nodded in answer. Everything was alright and he was ready to move on. Daryl pointed to the door and then in the direction of the way out of the building. He wanted Aaron to go outside. Aaron shook his head and his brows pushed together in defiance. He wasn't ready to give up. He came here to do a job, and he was going to see it through. Daryl shook his head in disagreement, wanting Aaron to leave. They were having a silent argument with only gestures instead of words. Rosita grabbed their attention by waving her hand. It was time to go, and she was getting angrier by the moment. But before Daryl and Aaron could finish their argument, an alarm went off. Everyone froze and looked at each other.

"Shit," Daryl said. There was no point keeping quiet any longer. They had just been found out. The three of them left the room, and joined Rick and Michonne in the hall.

"Guns out," Rick said, and everyone switched from their knives.

Daryl knew Aaron couldn't leave now that the Saviors were alerted to their intrusion. They had a battle on their hands now. They would have to shoot their way out. As a group, they fought on ahead, shooting at the men that were trying to shoot them. Abraham, Sasha, Glenn and Heath hadn't been accounted for yet. First priority was to find them and kill the Saviors. There could be no survivors.

They were suddenly in a hail of fire from shooters above on a catwalk. Everyone scattered and Aaron and Daryl were separated. Aaron found himself alone in a room, and took a moment to collect himself. He was about to check his gun when someone knocked it from his hands, and it slid across the floor. A huge burly man attacked Aaron, and he fought him as best he could, but he knew he would be overpowered. The attacker grabbed Aaron by the throat and squeezed. Aaron pushed against his chest, trying to get him off, but he was beginning to see tiny bursts of light, as he was being strangled. He had to get this guy off of him and fast. With his free hand, Aaron reached for the knife at his side. He'd put it away when he took out his gun. Remembering the gun, Aaron tried to look for it, but the man's grip was too tight. Finally, Aaron brought the knife up. The man glimpsed the silver flash of metal and grabbed Aaron's wrist, which made him loosen his hold on Aaron's neck. Aaron took as deep a breath as he could manage, and reached deep to find what was left of his strength. The position they were in gave Aaron an advantage, He pushed the knife closer and closer to the man's chest until the point finally touch flesh.

"If it wasn't you, it would have been us," Aaron choked out, as though this justified what he was doing, and with all he had, he slid the knife between the ribs. The man sputtered and coughed, losing his strength with every breath. Aaron twisted the knife back and forth to do the most damage. The man went down in a limp heap at Aaron's feet, and Aaron slid to the floor, depleted of all energy. It felt as though his esophagus was crushed, but it was probably just the muscles clenching in a spasm. One moment was all he needed, but the room began to spin from lack of oxygen. He looked down and noticed the blood on his shirt, and then lost consciousness.

Meanwhile, out in the hall, Daryl followed Rick and Michonne deeper into the compound, killing Saviors as they went. When they had a moment to assess their situation, Daryl looked back towards the way they came. Aaron was nowhere to be seen. "I'm going back," he told Rick.

"We need to keep moving this way. We can't stop until we find their armory and–"

"I'm going back," Daryl repeated. He didn't wait around to argue with Rick.

Daryl went room to room, gun raised, finding each one empty or with dead bodies inside. If there were bodies, he briefly checked them to make sure they weren't Aaron. He silently berated himself for letting Aaron come here. He saw the struggle on Aaron's face when he was about to kill the sleeping man. Daryl saw the picture on the wall too, and he didn't blame Aaron for freezing, but pictures like that were just memories. The world was much different now. People weren't who they used to be, and this man had chosen to involve himself with people who were bad. It was a good thing Daryl showed when he did. It tore at his heart to see Aaron question his action, trying to force himself to do what he knew he was there to do. That's why Daryl stepped in and took over. Aaron didn't need to be haunted by what he was about to do. Daryl would carry the burden for them. He was a little more hardened to performing such acts. It's how he survived, how he made it this far.

He entered another room, and found Aaron sitting on the floor, back leaning against the wall. There was a large dead man on the floor next to him, and Aaron's shirt was drenched in blood. His eyes were closed, and his breathing seemed labored. Was Daryl's biggest fear about to become reality? He rushed over to Aaron and knelt on the floor next to him.

"Aaron! Oh God, Aaron, please," Daryl cried as he tried to wake him. Slowly, Aaron came around, and even in the chaos, managed to smile at the sight of Daryl.

"Hey, you're here," Aaron said, lifting his hand and patting the side of Daryl's face.

"Are you alright?" Daryl asked, trying to lift Aaron's shirt. "Are you hurt? Bit? Aaron, talk to me. What happened?"

"It's ok, it's not my blood. At least I don't think it is."

Daryl checked his flesh, but didn't find any wounds. When he looked at Aaron again, he noticed the red marks on his throat. Aaron put his hand on Daryl's arm as he reached out to touch the marks.

"I'm alright. I just passed out is all," Aaron told him.

"We gotta go. Can you walk?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah," Aaron answered and tried to get up. Daryl helped get him to his feet, and together they left the room "Wait," Aaron stopped him. "Shouldn't we knife him in the head?" Aaron wondered, looking back into the room.

"Naw. Leave him to turn so he can greet any more Saviors that come checking on this place," Daryl said with disgust.

Aaron was putting all of his weight on Daryl, and they were moving slower than they would have liked. By now, they were alone. The rest of the group had either moved on or found a way out. "Where is everyone?" Aaron wondered.

"Hopefully they got out," Daryl said.

Aaron stopped walking. "I don't think–" he started to say, but his body went limp. He'd passed out again.

Daryl pulled Aaron to him, and was going to lay him on the floor, but suddenly, Jesus was there, and took Aaron's other arm. "Let's go."

"You're not supposed to be here," Daryl said angrily. "If the Saviors see you here–"

"Doesn't seem to matter anymore, does it?" Jesus answered. He nodded towards the way the group came in. "It's mostly clear that way, and the fastest way out. We pulled the van and the RV up front. We'll get Aaron out of here, and then go back to look for the others."

Daryl had no choice but to work with Jesus. He nodded in agreement and together they dragged Aaron out of the compound. About half way there, Aaron regained consciousness. "Jesus, what happened?"

"I don't know the whole story, but apparently you passed out and . . ." Jesus paused at noticing Aaron's confusion. "You weren't asking me specifically, were you?"

The sound of automatic weapons firing rapidly came from further inside the compound. Daryl and Jesus looked at each other, knowing one of them needed to go see what was happening. "You think we found the armory?" Jesus asked.

"Either us or them. Let's hope it's us," Daryl said.

"You got him?" Jesus asked, letting go of Aaron's arm.

"Yeah, just go and I'll catch up after I get Aaron to the camper."

"Wait, I'm going too," Aaron said.

"No, you're not," Daryl and Jesus said in unison. They gave each other a quick glance after their combined answer. Seemed as though they were both looking out for Aaron's welfare.

"Go," Daryl said to Jesus to avoid any more confusion. Jesus nodded and took off. Daryl helped Aaron the rest of the way out, finding it clear outside. The RV was right there, and he got Aaron up the steps.

Tara took Aaron's other side and helped him onto the couch. "What happened?" she asked with concern.

"Aaron will explain. I gotta go back in," Daryl told her.

Andy came forward. "You need some help?"

"I need you to get Craig as far from here as possible. Take him back to Hilltop. Tell Gregory we held up our end of the bargain," Daryl demanded.

Andy didn't question him or argue. He nodded in compliance and helped Craig stand. Craig was hurt, but he looked like he'd be alright. He'd been beaten pretty badly. Gabriel went to the men and helped Andy get Craig to the van.

Daryl looked at Tara, and then to Aaron. "I'll be back, but I gotta–"

"I know you do," Aaron smiled. "Be careful."

Daryl looked at Tara again, and she understood as she turned her back to them. Then, Daryl kissed Aaron, hoping this wouldn't be the last. It didn't feel like his day to die, and he wasn't worried. He flew out of the RV and back to the compound to help his people.

Once it was just Tara and Aaron in the RV, she started looking him over. "I'm not a doctor, but I've watched Denise enough times. So, what happened?"

"A guy caught me off guard, tried to strangle me," Aaron croaked. His throat felt raw and his vocal chords weren't working properly.

"Can you breathe alright?" she asked.

"Yeah. Throat hurts though," he said, not speaking too much because of the pain.

"Don't talk anymore then. I think you'll be alright until we get home and Denise can check you over. There's a first aid kit, if you want me to look through it, and see if there's anything that will help."

Aaron shook his head. "No, that's alright." He stood from the couch and went to the opposite side of the camper to look out the window. From there, he could see the door to the compound. He wouldn't take his eyes from it until he saw Daryl emerge. Only then would he feel relieved.

After a little while, Tara came up next to him. "I wish they'd hurry up."

"Me too," Aaron said.

"You shouldn't try to talk," Tara warned. Then she smiled sheepishly. "I think it's beautiful what you and Daryl have. You really love each other, don't you?" she observed, and Aaron smiled and nodded. "Yeah," she continued. "I've seen the two of you. Not that I was gawking or being creepy or anything. No, I-I just noticed the way you are when you're around each other. I can tell you all try not to make too much of a display when others are around, but there's still this whole … vibe that you guys have. You just seem really relaxed in each other's company." Tara stepped back from the window and sat on the couch behind them. "I don't think Denise and I are quite to that point yet. Or … maybe it's me who isn't." The last part she said very quietly.

Aaron turned to her, giving her his full attention. "Why?" he whispered.

"I'm not … I'm just not ready. It hasn't been that long. We're still getting to know each other." As she spoke, she paced up and down the aisle. "I've got all kinds of excuses. For instance, when I was leaving to come here, she told me she loved me. I … I couldn't believe she said it. I didn't think we were there yet. The thing is, I wanted to say it, but I couldn't. I think … I think I'm afraid to, but it's not because I don't want to or that I don't care. I do … very much. I didn't want to say it to her, and then have something happen to me. Once that kind of confession is out in the open, there are responsibilities and worries." She looked away and sighed. "Denise told me she loved me, and all I could say was that I'd tell her when I got back." Tara shook her head, berating herself. "I'm so stupid."

Aaron went to Tara and turned her towards him. She looked up into his face and he smiled. Then he pulled her into his chest and hugged her. "You're not stupid."

"I'm not so sure about that," she responded.

Aaron wanted to say more, but his throat was very sore. And then they heard a commotion outside and jumped up. The group was coming out of the compound. Aaron and Tara left the RV and met everyone outside. Rick walked with Michonne, Abraham with Sasha. Glenn and Heath came out looking exhausted and baffled. Surprisingly, at least to Aaron, Daryl and Jesus walked side by side. Maybe things were changing between those two. Rosita was the last to come out. She walked alone and looked distant.

"Maggie, have you heard from her?" Glenn asked when he approached Tara.

Tara shook her head. "No, but we should radio her and Carol, and tell them to come back."

Maggie and Carol had been lookouts for the group, hiding in the woods so they could keep an eye on the compound at a distance. Maggie had a radio, and she would have called Rick if anyone approached, but her radio was silent during the ordeal.

Aaron watched as Daryl and Paul had words. Daryl nodded and Paul clasped a hand to his shoulder. Then Daryl turned to Aaron and they walked towards each other until they were face to face. Daryl looked him over, and touched Aaron's neck tenderly.

"You alright?" Daryl asked.

Aaron nodded. "Throats sore, but otherwise . . ." He smiled and touched Daryl's arm.

Daryl lifted the edge of his shirt and pulled a gun out of his belt. "Found this," he said, handing Aaron his gun. "Guess you dropped it."

"Yeah, that guy who attacked me knocked it out of my hands. Thanks." Aaron glanced towards Paul, who was speaking with Rick at the moment. "So, uh, you two getting along better now?"

Daryl looked to see who Aaron was talking about, and when he saw it was Jesus, he nodded. "For now. The man kept his word, told the truth." He was reluctant to admit it.

Aaron turned to the compound, noticing how quiet it was now. "Is it taken care of?"

"Yeah," Daryl answered quietly. "I think we got them all."

Aaron looked to the ground. "I froze in there. I thought I could do it, but–"

"It's ok," Daryl comforted him. "That wasn't an easy thing to do."

"I saw that picture on his wall, and all I could think was–"

Daryl stopped him again. "It's over now. No need to dwell on it. I was just glad I was there to–"

Everyone's attention was drawn to the sound of a motor within the compound. Before anyone had a chance to make sense of what was happening, a man on a motorcycle drove out of the building. Right away, Daryl recognized it. That was his bike, the one that the guy in the woods took from him. "Hey!" Daryl yelled.

Someone fired their gun, and the man dropped from the bike. They both slid to a stop. Daryl was already running towards him, expecting to see the man from the woods, but it wasn't him. It was one of the Saviors who had somehow escaped getting caught. Daryl jumped on the injured man, and started punching him as he tried to get up.

"That's my fucking bike! Where the hell did you get it?" Daryl interrogated as he continued hitting the man.

Rick and Michonne were closest to Daryl and rushed to his side. They let Daryl interrogate the man while they aimed their weapons at him.

"Where'd you get the bike?" Daryl kept repeating, but the guy wasn't talking.

"Let him up," Rick said, pulling Daryl away. Then Rick stuck his gun to the man's head. "You're not answering my friend. Now tell us how you got the bike or I'm going to shoot you."

"Fuck you," said the Savior, and he spit blood at Rick's feet.

Daryl didn't like that answer, and he kicked the man a couple times, making him double over.

Aaron watched and waited to see how things would escalate, but something caught his eye. In the grass next to the bike he found a walkie talkie. He picked it up and took it to Rick. "Found this over there," he pointed.

Rick observed the walkie talkie and showed it to the man. "Now I'm wondering who's on the other end of this." Rick tilted his head to the side and waited for an answer, but all he got was silence. He cocked the gun. "Daryl," he called. "You got your bike back. You good with that?"

Daryl glared at the Savior through his long hair, wet with perspiration. "Not yet." He kicked the man a couple more times in the ribs. The man groaned with each blow. "Now I'm good."

"Seems like we don't need you anymore," Rick said, preparing to kill the last Savior from the compound, when the walkie talkie came alive.

"You, with the gun. Put it down. Put it down now," said a woman's voice.

Everyone began looking around the area, instantly on the defensive. Rick kept his gun trained on the man, but he watched for attackers too.

"You're not listening to me," she said. "Put down the goddamn gun and let him go."

Rick slowly raised the walkie talkie to his mouth and pushed the lever to talk. "And why should I listen to someone I can't even see?"

There was a moment of silence before she answered. "Because I've got two of your people. Do the names Maggie and Carol ring a bell?"

Aaron's heart sank, but Daryl couldn't feel anything but rage. He'd lost so much because of these Savior assholes. He was done with their bullshit. "They took my bike, my bow, my trust and my pride, but I'll be damned if they're going to take my people," he seethed. "Now you got a redneck on your ass."


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35 We Will Fight For What Is Ours**

Rick stood outside the compound talking to a mysterious woman on a walkie talkie while the rest of the group circled him, guns drawn, as they watched the surrounding area. The woman claimed to have Maggie and Carol held prisoner, and demanded that Rick release their man, who he was holding at gunpoint. Tensions were running high as Rick tried to negotiate with the woman on the radio.

"She's bluffing," Daryl murmured.

Aaron was next to him. "What if she's not? We can't risk Maggie and Carol's safety."

Daryl listened to Rick talking to the woman for a moment. They were just going around in circles, neither one coming to a decision. He leaned towards Aaron as he spoke. "I say we slip out of here quietly, and see if we can find her. She must be close."

"Close enough that she'd see us sneaking away," Aaron complained. He shook his head. "We have to stay here."

"The guy in the wing vest," said the woman over the radio. "He's looking a bit antsy. Better not be planning anything. I know every move you're people are making right now, and if I count heads and someone, just one person is missing, you're women will be shot. Got that?"

Aaron glanced at Daryl nervously. "I told you. Let Rick handle this."

After a while, Rick lowered the walkie talkie. The woman on the other end was done for now. She told Rick to wait for her next radio signal, and she would tell him where they would meet for the exchange. Rick addressed his people. "The signal started breaking up. I think she's on the move, and she's got Maggie and Carol with her."

"What are we going to do?" Michonne asked.

"We're not going to wait here for her signal, that's for sure. We need to follow her, find out where she went. Daryl, you're our tracker. Let's go," Rick said.

"You all are dead already," the hostage said through a split lip.

While Rick spoke to the mystery woman, someone found some wire and secured the man's hands behind his back. Now, Rick hoisted him up by his arm, making him stand. "You're coming with us."

"You'll never find my people," the man taunted. "We have eyes everywhere. We are one."

"Man, shut the fuck up," Daryl complained, and he punched him in the stomach.

Rick looked around at his people. "I need a few of you to stay here and keep a look out, just in case this woman tries to double back here. The rest of you are coming with me and Daryl."

Aaron, Glenn, Michonne, Abraham and Sasha decided to go with Rick, Daryl and the hostage. The rest stayed behind to patrol the immediate area. As they were setting off into the woods, Daryl noticed something wrong. "Where's Jesus?"

Everyone looked around, unsure where he was. Aaron made an observation. "I can't remember seeing him since right after you all came out of the compound."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed. "We were walking together, and that's the last time I saw him. Come to think of it, he was gone by the time this asshole rode out on my bike." He pointed to their hostage. The rest of the group was dumbfounded.

"Do you think the woman noticed him missing?" Aaron wondered. "She said she would count."

Rick shook his head. "No, I think he was out of sight before that, but where he went is a mystery."

"Son of a bitch," Daryl muttered to himself. He stopped and observed the woods around him. "What if he's in on this? What if he's off to warn her or something?"

"Jesus is not working with the Saviors," Michonne stated. "He's the one who got us a meeting with Geoffrey so that we could help Hilltop in the first place."

"That don't mean shit," Daryl said, jaw clenched with aggravation.

"We can't stop now. They have Maggie, and I'm not going back until she's with me," said Glenn impatiently.

Daryl nodded at Glenn. "We'll find her. We'll find both of them," he said with confidence. He started looking at the foliage and low hanging tree branches. "This way."

After a while of silence, and everyone watching for signs of Maggie and Carol being led away, Aaron caught up to Daryl, who was way out in front of everyone else. "Paul is not working with them."

Daryl shook his head, his lips pressing into a slight frown as he harrumphed. "Again with the 'Paul' thing. So, what? You think you know him better than the rest of us? Because if he played us, he played you too."

"I trust him, that's all," Aaron said standing up for himself.

"Oh, you do?" Daryl accused. "Alright, then where the hell did he disappear to and why?"

"I-I don't know. I just don't think he's working for the Saviors." Aaron let Daryl's aggressiveness slide to the wayside because he knew it was caused by the worry over the kidnapped women.

"Well, we'll see about that," Daryl countered, and he went back to tracking.

Aaron couldn't shake the feeling that Daryl might be upset with him too, not just Paul. "I'm worried about them too," he said, figuring Daryl would know who he was talking about.

"I know you are," Daryl answered without looking back. He kept trudging along looking for clues.

"Maggie's pregnant, for God's sake, and Carol … she's … well, she's not herself lately," Aaron continued. When Daryl didn't say anything, Aaron fell back to where the others were, and continued his own search. It was better not to pursue an argument right now. Daryl was an excellent tracker, but he wasn't immune to distractions.

* * *

"Dammit!" Daryl berated himself after what felt like an eternity in the woods.

Rick pushed the hostage to the ground, leaving him where he couldn't hear their conversation. He came up next to Daryl to see what the matter was. "What is it?" he asked, brows furrowed with concern.

Daryl stood up straight, stretching his back after all the crouching and bending over. He looked over at the hostage, satisfied that he was far enough away. "Trail's gone cold."

"What? It couldn't have," Rick said. He looked around the area, though he didn't know what to look for. "How far back? Maybe we'll just turn around and–"

"Been cold for a while now. I thought I found something, but I keep disproving my findings," he whispered so the others wouldn't hear. His hand went to the back of his neck. "I followed the wrong lead. I-I don't know. I thought I had something, but–"

"Don't worry about it, Daryl," Rick soothed. "We'll just go back and pick it up again."

"You don't understand," Daryl argued. "I should have known better. This is what I do, and I know I'm good at it." His frustration was evident as he began pacing.

"Listen, it's not easy … not any of this, and worrying about the women makes is more difficult, I'm sure." While Rick spoke, the other members came up to them.

"What is it? Have you found something?" Glenn asked. The fear and worry in his voice made Daryl feel worse.

"We might have to go back and try another path," Rick said calmly.

"What do you mean go back?" Glenn went from fearful to angry. "We can't. We have to keep–"

"I lost the damn trail, alright?" Daryl exclaimed.

"This is bullshit," Glenn spat. "You're supposed to know what you're doing."

Daryl ignored Glenn's outburst and tried to explain. "There's a lot of undergrowth here. Makes it difficult to track, but we'll get back on the right–"

"That is my wife out there. Every minute she's with those people is another minute she could be in serious danger," Glenn berated, as though Daryl didn't already know this much.

Daryl was trying to give Glenn the benefit of the doubt, but now he was questioning Daryl's ability to do the one thing he was best at. "I am doing my best," he said through clenched teeth.

"This is bullshit," Glenn responded. He stepped up to Daryl and got in his face. "You've gotten us lost, haven't you?"

Daryl didn't back down and the two men stood face to face in a challenge. Unfortunately, Daryl had no argument. It was true, he'd been lost for the last fifteen minutes or so. He had followed a lead that he knew deep down wasn't made by a human, but it was all he had. He took the chance and it was a bad decision.

With no cause for argument, Daryl backed away from Glenn. "Man, fuck you!" he shouted and walked away.

"Fuck me?" Glenn said, not willing to back down yet. "I'm not the one who's been following Bambi's trail instead of double checking to make sure we're on the right track. So, fuck …. you … Daryl."

The hostage wasn't too far that he couldn't hear the argument going on, and he laughed from his spot on the ground. The sound of it got under Daryl's skin, not making the situation any better. Fed up with being accused of screwing up their rescue attempt, he spun on his heal and headed straight for Glenn like a charging boar. His fists were already clenched, the muscles in his arms bulging, and ready to answer Glenn with a punch. Aaron jumped in front of Daryl, and after being pushed himself, finally got him to stop advancing.

"Woah, woah, woah. This is enough gentlemen," Aaron said. "Every minute we stand here arguing is another minute we're not looking for Maggie and Carol."

"He's right," Michonne agreed, stepping forward. "Now's not the time for this. You two need to get yourselves in check, and get back to the real problem."

"I'm going to call her," Rick said, raising the walkie talkie up. "I'll know by the amount of static how close we might be."

"You do that," Abraham countered, "and she'll know too."

"He's right," Sasha agreed, and Abraham glanced sideways with a smile towards her.

"Then what are we supposed to do, stand around with our thumbs up our asses?" Michonne countered.

Everyone started arguing with each other, trying to get their opinion across and make the others believe they had the answer. Meanwhile, nothing was being done to find Maggie and Carol.

Jesus suddenly appeared, breaking from the undergrowth, drawn to the group by their arguing. "Hey, hey," he repeated until they noticed him.

Daryl abandoned his argument with Glenn and marched right over to Jesus. "And where the fuck have you been you goddamn traitor."

"Traitor?" Jesus said. He raised his hands up as a sign of surrender, and smiled. "I'm with you guys."

"Oh really? Then where the fuck did you disappear to when all that shit was going down back at the compound?" Daryl accused. He was still charging at Jesus with a heavy footed stride. "You working with them? You know that fucker sitting over there?"

Jesus glanced back quickly to see who Daryl was talking about and noticed the hostage for the first time. "Shit," he whispered to himself, and brought his attention back to Daryl.

Daryl's arm came up, giving away the fact that he was going to punch Jesus. Jesus stood his ground, not changing his position until the last possible second. Daryl swung at him, but Jesus ducked and moved to the side. He still had his hands in the air to show he wouldn't fight back.

"I couldn't stay. I saw the guy on the bike come out of the building, and the walkie talkie fall to the ground. I knew there must have been someone on the other end. That's why the guy was making a run for it. He'd been warned. The last thing we all needed was for him to see me with your group," Jesus explained. "If they saw me, they'd know that you were working with Hilltop. I'm sorry, but I have to protect my community. You'd do the same thing if you were in my place."

"He's seen you now though, hasn't he?" Daryl said, referring to the hostage.

"Unfortunately yes," Jesus answered regretfully. "He'll have to be dealt with."

"How convenient since he's our collateral for getting Maggie and Carol back," Daryl said with suspicion. He wasn't buying into anything Jesus was saying. All he saw was the man he still didn't trust who threatened the safety of his own people. Without a word, Daryl swung another punch towards Jesus, but he missed again. Jesus was too quick. He was obviously trained in martial arts. He was good at reading people's movements and making decisions based on his findings. And Daryl was tired, angry, worried, and just not thinking straight at this point.

Again, it was Aaron that went to Daryl and stopped him. "Let it go," he said. "It's not worth the fight. Paul's right. He was just trying to protect his own people, and we would have made the same call."

Daryl pushed Aaron away. "Fuck you and this Paul shit, like the two of you are best friends or something. You want to trust him, fine, but I think he's leading us into a trap."

Rick, who always trusted Daryl's judgement, went to Jesus with his gun raised. "I'm not a hundred percent convinced either. Daryl's a good judge of character, and you haven't exactly been honest with us. I haven't forgotten our initial encounter and how you took our supplies."

Jesus smiled wide. "Rick, I thought we were past that. Do you think I would have led you to Hilltop if I didn't think you were good people? I let you in with your weapons when we didn't have any way of protecting ourselves against you. I am not working for the Saviors. I was just looking out for my own people. If Negan or any of his men find out that we've hired muscle, he would level us to the ground, and then he'd come for you. My disappearing was best for both of our communities."

"So why did you show up now?" Glenn asked.

"As I was trying to catch up to you, I found their trail. I know where they took Maggie and Carol," Jesus said.

"Are you sure?" Rick asked. His gun was still trained on Jesus.

"I found a scrap of material from Carol's shirt. Yes, I'm sure," Jesus reassured them. He opened his hand and showed them a torn piece of cloth that matched the shirt Carol had been wearing.

Rick considered this, and glanced around to the rest of the group. No one seemed to disagree. "Alright, lead the way."

"Rick," Daryl said, eyes narrowed as he glared at Jesus.

"It's our only option," Rick answered. "We have to trust him."

Jesus led the way, but he kept looking back at Daryl with uneasiness. He worried about taking Daryl's position within Rick's group. Aaron noticed this too, and kept his eye on Daryl at the same time. Daryl only glared at Jesus whenever they made eye contact. Then they stopped while Jesus observed some broken branches.

"Um, Daryl? Could you … could you come look at this?" Jesus said nervously.

"You don't need me," Daryl condescended. "You got this, right? You know what you're doing."

Aaron moved close to Daryl and whispered in his ear. "Come on, don't be like this. Remember who we're looking for."

Daryl sighed deep. He knew Aaron was right, but he didn't want anything to do with Jesus at the moment. Just to please his partner, he went to Jesus to see what he wanted. "What," Daryl said, annoyed.

"I just want your opinion on this," Jesus said, pointing to some broken branches with hair on them. "It could be animal or human. It's low enough to the ground to be an animal, but one of them could have fallen and got their hair caught. I don't know them all that well, but I know you do. What do you think? Could this be their hair?"

Daryl eyed Jesus a moment before he decided to take a look, but he finally investigated it. "It's human. As a matter of fact, it's Carol's hair," he said with concern, and he turned to Aaron.

At this, Rick approached the two men. "Carol? Are you sure?"

Daryl rubbed the clump of hair between his fingers. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We're on the right track." He couldn't help wonder what had transpired here. Did Carol try to make a run for it and fell? Was she pushed? There was no evidence of skin or blood, so hopefully she wasn't injured, and she just stumbled and caught her hair in the bushes.

"Let's go," Rick demanded. "This way. We're getting close."

After everyone followed Rick, Jesus pulled Daryl to the side. "I feel I need to apologize. I didn't do this on purpose."

"Whatever man," Daryl said, trying to push past him.

Jesus saw this as his opportunity to try and make some kind of amends with Daryl. "I really am sorry. I'm not trying to take your job away. I know you're Alexandria's tracker and–"

"Fuck you and shut up," Daryl interrupted. He didn't want to hear it. If Jesus said one more word, he swore he was going to punch the son of a bitch. His body leaned towards Jesus, ready to respond physically if the man spoke, but Aaron was right there and put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Think of the girls," Aaron whispered. "Come on. Let's get going."

* * *

On the way, Rick came up with a plan to draw the people out of the place where they took Maggie and Carol. Everyone was given instructions and knew where their place was. They didn't know what they were heading for or how many people they were dealing with, but that didn't matter right now. Their only goal was to get the women back unharmed.

Daryl seethed as he walked along, silent since his outburst with Jesus. Aaron walked beside him, but he didn't speak either. He could feel how tense Daryl was. Not only was he worried about the women, but his pride took a hit when Jesus swopped in and saved the day. This was a major blow, especially with everything that went wrong for Daryl lately.

"It's up here, not far," Jesus announced, and the group slowed to a stop.

"Alright, we all know what to do?" Rick asked, making sure there were no questions. Then he got on the radio to ask the woman why he hadn't heard from her. He knew she would figure out that the signal was strong because there wasn't any static. He knew she'd know Rick's people were close. He hoped this would flush her out, bringing Maggie and Carol with her. Then, the Alexandrian group would rush in and finish what they started back at the compound. No survivors. That was the goal this day.

Everyone took their positions, as prepared as they could be going into it blind. Aaron was with Daryl this time. They weren't going to be separated again, not after what happened last time. Daryl whispered to Aaron. "Remember, you see either one of them, you take them away. I'll cover you if that happens." They had their own plan.

"Yep. I got it," Aaron said. He glanced sideways at Daryl, and saw him keeping an eye on Jesus. "Don't let him get under your skin," Aaron warned. He could see Daryl was still upset.

"He ain't shit," Daryl answered, keeping his eyes glued towards the door. The truth was, Daryl thought Jesus might be a match to his abilities. He could fight really well, and he could track. Those were two of Daryl's main qualities.

They waited a while, observing the building, looking for signs of activity when Abraham shouted. "Look!" He pointed to the roof of the building. Smoke rose from a silver exhaust pipe.

"What do we do?" Sasha said, looking at Rick for answers.

"I would have thought they'd come out by now," Abraham mentioned. "Now it looks like the place has caught fire."

"I'm done waiting," Glenn demanded. "That my wife in there."

"The building's not on fire," Michonne pointed out. "That pipe is like a chimney. It's meant for smoke to escape."

"So what kind of place is this?" Sasha asked.

Aaron came up beside her, staring at the building. "It's a slaughter house." He lifted his arm and pointed at a faded sign painted on the side of the building. "A meat processing plant. Looks like an outline of a pig. They must have smoked meats here too."

"Fuck this shit," Daryl blurted out. "We're going in there right now."

"Wait!" Jesus said trying to stop them.

"Why?" Daryl challenged him. "You trying to keep us from going in there or something?"

"No," Jesus countered. "I was just … Listen, if we barge in there–"

"We're going," Rick decided. "And you're leading the way." He pushed Jesus forward and the group followed behind. They would rush the door, break in and start firing at anyone who was their enemy. They left the hostage tied to a tree a little ways back, keeping him away from the fight in case they needed to use him as leverage.

Aaron noticed how nervous Paul looked. He wondered if it was because no one trusted him or because they were alright with using him as collateral damage. The first one in was at serious risk of being shot while the others fired back. Aaron wasn't happy about it, but there was nothing he could say to change anyone's mind.

They approached the door and heard screams from inside. "Maggie!" Glenn shouted while Daryl, Rick and Abraham ran into the door shoulders first to try and bust it down. Aaron found a piece of rebar and started trying to pry it open. With everyone working together, they got the door open and ran in, guns raised. They didn't know what they would find, but they weren't expecting to see Carol and Maggie half way down a hall.

The women shaded their eyes to the sunlight that poured in. The people coming towards them were just black shadows to their sensitive eyes. But the people could see them, and they could see the carnage just behind them. Glenn's only reaction was to go to Maggie. The others watched him, ready to shoot anything just in case it was a trap of some kind, but no one came out of the shadows.

Jesus was the first one to approach Carol. She looked completely lost in her eyes. "Are you alright?" Jesus asked. "Are you hurt?"

She looked past him down the bright hallway. "Where's Daryl?"

"Move," Daryl demanded, roughly pushing Jesus to the side. All he wanted was to get to Carol who had asked for him. She didn't connect with anyone until she saw him. Daryl surrounded her with his arms, pulled her into his chest and held her tight. "It's alright. We're here now." He could feel her trembling as she finally gave in to the fear she'd been holding at bay.

He knew Carol was strong. She'd been through a lot and had done unthinkable things, but she was a survivor. However, something was different this time. He could tell. One thing about Carol and Daryl, they had a code of sorts. They didn't discuss everything between each other, but they would check on one another with the simplest of words. One would ask, 'are you ok?' and the other would respond, 'I have to be.' It was odd because they could never say they were alright. Perhaps neither one was ever completely alright. Maybe to admit it would bring on another round of bad luck. Whatever it was, they knew that answer meant they were well enough and surviving as best they could. As Daryl held Carol in his arms, he could sense something unnerving in her tremble and in her breathing. He was almost afraid to ask the question, but he knew he had to. He told himself that she'd just been through a traumatizing experience, whatever might have occurred while separated from the group, but she survived yet again. Once they got back to Alexandria, when she'd had a chance to recover, she'd be alright. She always was.

"My God, Carol," Aaron said, coming up to them and putting a hand on her back. Her first reaction was to jump, even though she was looking right at Aaron. He glanced at Daryl for an answer to her odd behavior.

Daryl shook his head, and Aaron left them alone for the time being. When she finally calmed enough that he could release her from his grasp, he whispered the question. "Are you ok?"

Carol didn't answer at first, but she managed to look at him. Her lip was quivering as she tried to keep from becoming a blubbering mess. Then she slowly shook her head from side to side and answered. "No."

It was more serious than he thought, and Daryl did the only thing he could at the moment and pulled her to him again. "My God," he whispered. "What did they do to you?"

She didn't answer and a million horrible things started rummaging through his head. Was she tortured? Raped? Did they make her do something to Maggie? They didn't know these Saviors, didn't know what they were capable of. Something terrible happened, though, and all he could do was be a comfort to her for now and hope that she would eventually talk to him about it.

Daryl glanced at Glenn, who was holding Maggie. She didn't look physically hurt, and she didn't seem concerned about the baby. They needed to leave this place and Daryl was about to say as much when he saw Abraham walk in with the hostage.

"Here he is," Abe said to Rick. Then to the hostage he said, "Just answer the man's questions."

Rick got in the man's face, gun pointed at his temple. "Is this all of you?"

The man laughed. "We're everywhere. You'll never get rid of us all."

"I don't need to get rid of all of you, just your leader, Negan. Where is he? Was he here?"

"We're all Negan," the man answered, eyes wide and dark.

Rick had enough of his games and was at the edge of his patience. "Tell me now," he demanded, pushing the gun against the man's head. "Where is Negan?"

The man smiled and looked Rick right in the eyes. "I am Negan," he said slowly, daring Rick to challenge him again.

When he said this, Carol looked up from Daryl's shoulder to get a better look at him, but just as she did, Rick fired the gun. She jumped and buried her face in Daryl's chest. Daryl held her tight in his arms. The shape she was in, she didn't need to see that. As he held her, he looked across the way at Aaron, who seemed in shock by the suddenness of the incident. The interrogation was over. Their leader was dead.

After everyone collected themselves, Rick told Abraham and Sasha that they should sweep the premises for any survivors. "No one lives," he reminded them all.

Carol heard this and pushed away from Daryl. "You won't find anyone. They're all dead."

"We just need to make sure," Rick told her.

Carol shook her head. "There's no need. Anything moving in there is just walkers." Rick didn't seem convinced, always needing to see for himself. "Please," she said to him in a desperate plea.

Daryl heard the distress in her voice, and knew there was a reason she didn't want the others going back inside. "Let's just go, Rick."

Rick watched them a moment, and then he glanced down the hallway. After some careful thought, he agreed. "Alright, let's get out of here."

* * *

Some time had passed, and everyone was feeling anxious in Alexandria. When Rick and the others got back, they had a meeting with the rest of the town, explaining to a degree what had transpired with the Saviors. Some people felt that the threat was eliminated after learning that their leader was dead. Others thought there might be some kind of retaliation. Security was heightened now that the new watchtower was finished. There was always someone on patrol in the tower, at the gate, and at several spots along the wall. Guns were no longer locked away, and most residents were armed in some way or another.

Daryl was sitting on the curb in front of his house with his bike. He'd spent a good portion of his time fixing it after it had been stolen. It ran well enough to get it back to town, but it needed a lot of love and care. He finally had it running smoothly, and was just making a few minor adjustments to it.

Aaron came out of the house and handed him a bottle of water. Daryl took it, made a face and glanced up at him. Aaron shrugged. "It's all we have. The beer's all gone."

"Damn Hilltoppers," Daryl complained. "We come back with crates of vegetables, fruits, canned goods … even a fucking goat, but not a single drop of alcohol."

Aaron smiled and took a seat next to him, draping his arm over Daryl's leg. "I guess some people's priorities just aren't straight," he jested. He looked over the bike. "You going for a ride?"

Daryl nodded. "Thinking about taking her out when I get back from this run with Rosita."

"You think that's wise?" Aaron asked with concern. He was worried about Saviors finding Alexandria just like some of the others.

"It's been a while, and nothing's happened. I won't go far. I just need to open her up. See how she handles the road. I can't do that in town."

Aaron squeezed Daryl's thigh. "Maybe I can go with you?" he questioned.

Daryl watched Aaron a moment, and saw the concern. "You're not just worried about me going out are you?"

Aaron looked down and away, nodding slowly. "I'm worried about everything. I don't know, Daryl. I'm not so sure about any of it. What we did … someone's going to come looking for us, don't you think?"

"If they do, we're ready for them," Daryl said, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice. Maybe Aaron was right after all. Daryl didn't like it when he worried. Then, he nodded. "Alright, you can go with me. We'll get out on the open road and just clear our heads."

Aaron smiled with relief. "I'd like that." He looked longingly into Daryl's eyes, wanting to kiss him, but he refrained from it, knowing Daryl didn't like public affection.

"Hey you two," Carol said from the sidewalk. She had a lit cigarette in her hand, a bad habit she'd recently acquired, and menthols of all things.

Aaron smiled wide. "Hi Carol."

Daryl glanced up from his bike, watching her from behind long hair. "Sup."

"You going somewhere?" she asked.

"Not right now. Why?" Daryl wondered.

"No reason. Just saw you working on the bike."

Aaron sensed that she wanted to talk to Daryl alone. Maybe she was ready to open up about whatever it was that was bothering her lately. He decided to let them have some privacy and started to get up.

"Where you going?" Daryl asked, as though he did want to be alone with her. He wasn't good with personal situations, even with someone who he was close to.

"I got some … stuff to take care of," Aaron said, looking for any excuse. He smiled at Carol again. "Come in when you're done talking … if you want," he offered.

Aaron went inside, and Carol took up his seat on the step next to Daryl. She took a deep drag on her cigarette and stared out over the empty street. Daryl cocked his head to the side and watched her from the corner of his eye. He shook his head.

"How long you been doing that?" he asked, speaking of the cigarette.

"A while." She answered tersely, pausing before she spoke again. "After the invasion." Another pause and she flicked her ashes on the sidewalk. Carol looked down at her hand, turning the cigarette in her fingers. "Since I told Mrs. Neudermyer it was a nasty habit and she shouldn't smoke in her house." She shook her head slowly back and forth. "Stupid," she muttered quietly to herself.

"You couldn't have known what was going to happen," Daryl tried to reassure her.

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" She took about drag, blew it out slowly and offered it to Daryl.

"Naw, I can't smoke that shit," he complained about the menthols. "You could have at least smoked the good kind."

Carol huffed a laugh, but it was forced. "So, what do we do now?"

"About what?"

"About everything. You know someone is going to come looking for us, don't you? You'd be stupid if you didn't think that."

"Like I told Aaron, they come here … we'll be ready for 'em," Daryl answered.

"So we fight," she said to clear up any confusion.

"That's what we do best it seems."

"I'm tired of fighting," Carol said, head turned away from Daryl as though she didn't want him to hear.

"I'm tired too but–"

"No, I mean I can't do it anymore," she told him and shook her head. "I … I just can't."

"You don't have to. There's plenty of us here that can fight," Daryl reassured her.

"I didn't fight the last time, and I ended up . . ." She stopped herself from finishing the sentence. She didn't want to think about what she had done, and she definitely didn't want to talk. Instead, she asked Daryl a question. "Do you ever look back on it all? Do you ever think about the people you've … helped … or the ones that got left behind?" Helped wasn't the word she wanted to use, but to ask Daryl about the people he'd killed was too much to discuss.

"I remember what's most important. The rest is just bullshit," Daryl answered. The fact was, he remembered every face whether it was someone he helped or not. He could see that Carol was just starting to struggle with the faces, and wondered what she'd seen and done to make it as far as she had. "Is that why you don't want to fight? You don't want more memories?"

Carol shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. I don't know," she said solemnly. "All I know is that what used to be difficult to do has become much too easy now."

Daryl remembered how she begged Rick not to go back into the slaughterhouse to look for any survivors. She seemed frightened and worried. He thought it might have been for Rick's safety, but her concern was very different from that. It was as though she didn't want something to be found. But why?

"What happened back there," Daryl asked. He decided to get straight to the point. No use beating around it anymore. "What did they do to you?" His tone was dark, as though ready to seek revenge on whoever hurt her.

Carol took the last drag from her cigarette, threw the butt on the ground and stepped on it. Then she stood from the step and looked out over the street. She started to walk away, taking only a few steps before stopping and turning back to Daryl. "It's not want they did to me, but what I did to them." She looked up at the sun in the sky, squinting from the bright rays shining in her face. "I gotta go, but tell Aaron thanks anyways." Then she walked down the street, leaving Daryl to wonder about their conversation.

He went inside, finding Aaron sitting on the couch rereading another book, and made a mental note to look for new reading material while out on a supply run with Rosita. Aaron heard him come in and looked over his shoulder with a smile.

"Where's Carol?" he asked.

"She had to go." Daryl's look of concern was obvious as he came to sit next to Aaron.

"So, did you talk?" Aaron wondered.

"Yeah," Daryl answered.

"Is she alright?"

Daryl was silent a moment, considering the question. "No, she's not," he whispered. He'd never had to say that before. Whenever anyone asked him about Carol, he had always said she'd be alright. Now, though, something was not right. She was dealing with some kind of inner turmoil, something that only Carol could take care of. Daryl had always been there for her, but now he had to leave, and he worried what she might do. "Will you watch out for her while I'm gone?"

"Of course," Aaron answered without hesitation. "Hey, maybe you should take Carol out for a ride on the bike instead of me. If you get her away from here she might open up to you. Maybe even . . ." He paused before finishing the thought, but it was just a suggestion. "Maybe take her to the cabin."

"The cabin?" said Daryl, unsure of the idea. "But that's our place."

"I know, but I trust her not to tell anyone else about it. And perhaps getting her away from Alexandria might help her clear her head. I know it always works for me."

Daryl gave it some thought. It wasn't a half bad idea, and Aaron was right about trusting her with their secret sanctuary. "You could come along too."

Aaron shook his head. "This is something just the two of you need to do. You share a special bond. I think it's the only way to get her to open up and talk."

Slowly, Daryl nodded. "Yeah, alright. I ask her when I get back." Aaron was smiling at him, but he could see that there was something else on his mind.

"You know," Aaron said. "It wouldn't hurt if you opened up to her too."

Daryl rolled his eyes and leaned back against the couch. "There you go again. I told you I'm fine."

"Daryl," Aaron complained. "What happened was very traumatic, and I'm not just talking about what went down in the bunkers."

"You're talking about that prick who stole my bike again, aren't you?" said Daryl, accusingly.

"It's not just about your bike or your bow. It goes much deeper than that."

"I already told you what happened. Why do you think I would need to rehash it with Carol?" Daryl countered.

"Because you both have unfinished business with these people. God knows what they did to her while she was being held captive. You were their prisoner too." Aaron took a breath and released it slowly. "Listen, I'm not telling you to light candles and swap stories. I just think that you and Carol have a lot in common, and maybe talking to each other about your experiences might help you both to move past it."

"You don't think I've moved on? You think I sit around and dwell on it?" Daryl's ire was rising, not exactly what Aaron wanted to happen.

"I think that the experience has changed you. It left you feeling vulnerable and slighted. You question your ability to evaluate people."

"I'm just a little more cautious now than I used to be. That's not a bad thing," said Daryl, defending himself.

"You're beyond cautious. Take Jesus, for example. He's proved himself to be trustworthy and still you don't–"

"I'll tell you right now, I will never trust that asshole," Daryl interrupted, anger exuding in his tone. "And I'm tired of you always bringing him up."

"I don't mean to do it. It's just that–"

Daryl glared at Aaron through long hair and narrowed eyes. "You don't want to finish that thought."

"Fine, I won't." Aaron sat quietly for a few moments, but there was something else he wished they could discuss, and it had to do with the newly discovered community, Hilltop. "What is it like there, anyway?"

"Where, Hilltop?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah. You've been there. Is it a decent place? Are the people nice?" Aaron asked cautiously.

"It's a place. There are walls and people have roofs over their heads. No electricity. Limited running water. Don't know about the people yet."

Aaron paused before asking another question. This one would probably set Daryl off. Might as well ask anyway. "Is it somewhere that we could fit in?"

Daryl slowly turned his attention to Aaron. "No," he finally answered.

"I was just wondering. You don't have to get upset."

"Alexandria is the safest place we could be right now," Daryl went on with a short explanation.

"Really? Because I can't help but think about the way everyone is on edge waiting for a counter attack from unseen threats. You do realize that sooner or later, the Saviors are going to gather enough people to come after us?"

"I don't need you paying some tribute to Eric and his fantasy of another safe zone!" Daryl yelled. He stood from the couch, went to the hearth, and put his hand on the mantle. There were plenty of small objects within his reach that he could throw if he needed to, but he was trying to contain his ire. "Is that what you want to do? You want to run away from Alexandria, and let everyone here deal with a possible attack? Am I really hearing you say this?"

"Doesn't it bother you what we did to them?" Aaron shouted. "Are you so closed off that murdering all those people didn't affect you in some way?"

"We did what needed to be done. And let me remind you, we did it not only for us, but for Hilltop too," said Daryl. "Negan and his men were hitting up Hilltop long before they even knew Alexandria existed. Now they know and they'll be looking for us. They'll come and try to score a deal where we become the inmates. Well, if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, I ain't nobody's bitch. What's mine is mine. Alexandria … belongs to me and you. It belongs to everyone here, and if we want to keep it, we have to fight. That's why I'd never go to Hilltop."

Aaron realized his mistake. He got up and went to Daryl, wrapped his arm around his waist and leaned his head against Daryl's back. "I'm sorry. I don't want to argue with you. I know you're right, Daryl. I'm just … I … I can't get some of these images out of my head, and it scares me. The photos … did you see them? People's heads crushed beyond recognition. I saw them and the hairs literally stood on the back of my neck. What we're dealing with isn't anything we've come across before. People all claiming to be the same person, killing just to make an example and frighten communities into freely giving up their supplies. Why isn't anyone rising up against them? What do they know that we don't?"

Daryl felt Aaron's hand on his shoulder and reached up to touch it. "I've seen plenty of evil, all of them some form of atrocity. They don't get to win, Aaron. We've fought against each and every threat, and they eventually lose. They don't get to exist in this world," Daryl assured him with confidence.

Aaron shook his head, amazed by Daryl's coolness, and his ability to believe in his own power. "I really don't know how you do it."

"I just do. I have to do it. I do it for us because I'm not about to let anything happen to you. I have the same images in my head too, but then I see you and I'm reminded of what I made the sacrifice for … for us … for this town … for a future, our future." Daryl turned in Aaron's arms so that they were facing one another. "I do it because I love you. That's it." He moved towards Aaron and drew him in for a kiss. Daryl's arms surrounded him, and he pulled their bodies against each other. Their kisses became demanding before Daryl abandoned his lips in exchange for the taste of the flesh of Aaron's neck. His hands fumbled over the small shirt buttons, painstakingly undoing each one until enough of Aaron's chest was exposed. Then he worked his way down Aaron's chest, fingers gliding over the light muscling and bristly but soft hair.

Aaron's hands worked like magic running through Daryl's long hair. He took up a fistful and pulled his head back until Daryl's wantonly pleading eyes searched his. Daryl licked his lips while his hands went for the belt buckle, undoing it in record time. Aaron felt them loosen, felt a hand slink inside, bringing him standing immediately. Aaron released Daryl's hair, but pushed him lower. Daryl didn't resist. His mouth kissed the trail of dark hair that ran from Aaron's bellybutton and disappeared beneath fabric. A second later Aaron's pants were lowered. He finished letting them slide down his legs and stepped out of them. Daryl's focus never left Aaron's growing member. He licked his lips and took it into his eager mouth. Aaron threw his head back and sucked a deep breath through his clenched teeth, letting it out slowly with an erotic moan. Daryl had him throbbing for release, but it was too soon so he slowed things down by releasing him.

"Don't stop," Aaron begged.

"I'm not. I'll never stop," said Daryl, and he returned to his lover, running his tongue along the satiny flesh. It pulsed and jumped with a life of its own. Then Daryl looked up into Aaron's face with a steamy gaze. "Come here," he demanded.

Aaron got onto his knees, facing Daryl. "I need you."

Daryl kissed him. "I need you too. I always need you."

Aaron helped Daryl undress and soon they were both free of their clothes. Aaron laid down and Daryl followed, covering him with his body. He entered his lover, and they both gasped at the suddenness of it. Daryl moved slowly at first, and then he found his rhythm. They moved together in perfect unison, their lover's dance perfected. Daryl's fingers dug into the flesh of Aaron's hip, pulling him to his body, filling him with every thrust. His pace quickened the closer they both got to their completion. And then as sensitivities detonated, each man became lost in the surge of an orgasmic eruption. Bodies went rigid for a moment while they spilled. Then they relaxed, but Daryl stayed buried as he softened within. He crashed upon Aaron's chest and felt strong arms surround him. Daryl would stay this way until he was sure he'd regained the use of his legs. Aaron, of course, didn't mind being blanket by his lover. It was the best feeling in the world.

The argument forgotten, both men eventually dressed, smiles adorning their sated faces. Aaron tucked a stray hair behind Daryl's ear and kissed him. They couldn't stay at home today. Each one had things that needed to be tended to.

"How do I look?" Aaron asked.

Daryl finished buttoning the last button on Aaron's shirt. "Absolutely fine."

Aaron handed Daryl his boots. Daryl fixed his vest and straightened. "What about me?"

"You look like you just fucked your boyfriend," Aaron laughed.

"Good. That's what I was going for," Daryl answered with a straight face. "So are we good?"

"We're more than good. Now get out of here before I take advantage of you again," said Aaron to chase him off.

"That's hardly motivating me to leave," said Daryl, and he slapped Aaron's ass as he turned away. "We'll pick things up tonight where we left off today," he promised seductively.

They went their separate ways, each one with visions of the other running through their minds. Their worries were abated for the moment, but that's just the way things worked. While they were together, they would try harder not to have too many confrontations. Quiet moments were precious and few. The future was uncertain and they would have to discuss their concerns further, but for now all was well. For now, all was calm. There was still time to prepare for the storm, and they both had a feeling it would be the worst one yet.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36 Know Your Neighbors**

Daryl was checking the pickup truck that he and Rosita were going to use for their run. He made sure it was in good running condition. Last thing they needed was to get stranded out there somewhere. Rosita was putting together weapons and a couple days' worth of food while Daryl worked on the truck. They were heading out soon, going on a supply run. Medicine was their main concern, but a few of the residents asked for special requests. Daryl had a list in his pocket. He would try to get as many things as he could find. He remembered that he wanted to find books for Aaron, and stopped what he was doing to the car. He pulled a red rag out of his back pocket, and wiped his black greasy hands on it before pulling the list out. There was a pencil on the dashboard, and Daryl went to the passenger side to reach through the open window and retrieve it. Using the hood for a smooth surface, he flattened the paper and wrote in all caps, BOOKS. There, he thought to himself. Now he wouldn't forget like last time.

"Whatcha doing?" Denise asked, walking up to Daryl as he was folding the paper up.

"Getting ready to head out with Rosita. Why? You got something to add to the list?" He started to reach back into his pocket, but Denise stopped him.

"Actually, I do have something, but . . ." She stopped midsentence. She seemed nervous for some reason. "I need you to look for Venlafaxine, Cephalexin, and Prednisone."

Daryl stared at her with a blank expression that made her uncomfortable. "Presto what?"

"Prednisone," she repeated. "It's used to treat gout."

Daryl went to his pocket again. "You know what? Why don't you write it down on here, and write legibly so I know what I'm getting, and–"

"I have a better idea," Denise interrupted. "I'll go with you."

"No," Daryl answered without thinking about it.

"Why not?" Denise argued.

"Too dangerous."

"But–"

"I said no and that's that," Daryl said like a parent.

Just then Rosita walked up with a couple bags loaded with supplies. "What's up?"

"Doctor Denise here wants to go with us," Daryl told her.

"Not likely," Rosita said with an attitude.

Denise decided to put up an argument. "Look. You're going out on a medical supply run right? So who better to go with you than the doctor?"

"Like I said, write down the names on the sheet. Write so we can read it. Then we'll be back with your stuff," Daryl tried to convince her.

"I want to go," Denise said determined to make them understand. "I need to go." Try as she might, Daryl and Rosita just stared at her as though she was a child demanding something she couldn't have. "Look," she continued. "I know of this place, a head shop. I saw it once while I was out there. It's in a small strip mall."

"What the hell are you going to find in a head shop?" Daryl asked.

"Have you ever been in one? They don't just sell hookahs and bongs. Some of them have drugstores. I think there's a good chance this place hasn't been raided yet. When I pass by, the door was still chained shut. It's worth a look, isn't it?"

Daryl and Rosita looked at each other for an answer. Neither one wanted to bring Denise along. She was definitely under experienced. After a long silence, Rosita turned to her. "What do you know about being out there?"

Denise's hands waved in the air as she reached for an answer. "I know I always have to be alert. And if I'm attacked, aim for the head."

"And if we come across any of the Saviors?" Rosita drilled her.

"I-I'm hoping we don't," Denise said and shuffled nervously.

Daryl took a step towards her and got in her face. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"I … I don't know … a few. I've done it before though. I know what to do," she answered with confidence.

"How many people have you killed?" said Daryl, asking the second question.

Denise looked horrified by the question. "W-well n-none. I haven't killed anyone."

"Why?" said Daryl, finishing the interrogation with the final question.

"Why?" she repeated. "Because … because I haven't had to."

Daryl watched her a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. He liked Denise. She was a good kid, but she didn't have what it took to be out there. Still, he could sense the desperation she displayed for needing to go, but he didn't understand it.

Denise could see she was losing him. He was looking at her like she couldn't cross the street by herself. "I can do it, you know," she said. "Just because I haven't come across a situation where I needed to extinguish a life doesn't mean I can't do it. It's fight or flight out there, right? I won't fly."

Daryl was beginning to soften up and change his stubborn mind. He looked at Rosita to see what she might be thinking, but she threw her hands in the air and took a step back. "I'm not going to be her babysitter, if that's what you're thinking."

"I don't need a damn babysitter," Denise said with anger. "Fine, you don't want me to go along? Whatever. Good luck finding the medication."

Both Daryl and Rosita knew how detrimental it was to have a good supply of medicine, and right now their supplies were much depleted. He glanced at Rosita and shrugged. Rosita sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine," she finally gave in. "But you have to do exactly what we tell you to do, no questions, no arguing. Got it?"

"Loud and clear," Denise smiled, knowing she convinced them. "I'll get my stuff."

"Meet us back here in half an hour," Daryl told her.

He went home to see Aaron before heading out with Rosita and Denise. He just needed to see him one more time. Aaron was glad to see him too.

"I thought you already left," said Aaron with a smile.

"Slight change in plans. Denise is going with us," Daryl informed.

"Denise? You think that's wise?"

"She wouldn't take no for an answer." Daryl shook his head. "I don't care which team they play for, all women are stubborn."

Aaron laughed and put his hand on the back of his neck. He looked up at Daryl through his lashes, still smiling. "You know, she looks up to you. She holds you in high regard." Daryl huffed but Aaron went to him. "No, I mean it." Aaron shook his head. "And not in a romantic way or anything like that … of course. I think she wants to learn how to fight and defend, and she's looking to you to be her teacher."

"Why doesn't she ask Tara? They're together now and–"

"That's just it. I think she wants to be stronger _for_ Tara, and asking Tara to train her defeats the whole purpose." Aaron put his hands on Daryl's hips. "Just be nice to her. Give her some pointers while you're out there. And maybe when you get back, you can start working with her. She just wants to contribute, and I think she wants to impress Tara."

Daryl looked longingly into Aaron's eyes and grabbed a fistful of Aaron's shirt. "Is that how you felt when we first got together?"

"Well, who wouldn't want to have the handsome, sexy, mysterious Daryl Dixon as their mentor," said Aaron seductively. "Although, I think I might have done a little mentoring for you too." He kissed Daryl moving slow and taking his time. Daryl released Aaron's shirt and snaked his arms around his lover's waist, pulling him in close so that their bodies pressed together. Their kiss was heating as tongues slid along one another before Daryl started to ravish Aaron's neck.

"How much time before you leave?" Aaron whispered.

"Not enough," Daryl answered and kissed him again.

"Then we better stop or you're going to be late."

Daryl moaned against Aaron's mouth. "What I meant to say was, not enough to do everything I want to do to you."

Aaron smiled and pulled Daryl into the living room. "I'll take what I can get. Come here."

* * *

Daryl approached the truck. Rosita and Denise were already there waiting. He walked past them and threw his pack in the back. Rosita was dangling the keys from her finger, but when Daryl reached for them, she noticed something on his neck, and took the keys away to observe her findings. Her brows drew together as she looked at the side of his neck. "Is that … a hickey?" she smiled. Daryl ignored her, glaring dangerously, but she continued. "It is, isn't it?"

"Give me the keys," he said dryly.

"Well, look at you. Getting a little action before we head out. Way to go," Rosita teased him. She held the keys out again, and Daryl snatched them from her. She watched him walk around to the driver's side and mumbled. "At least one of us is getting some."

Daryl heard her, and he felt bad for her. Abraham had recently broken up with Rosita. She was on her own now, maybe for the first time since everything happened. Abraham cared for Rosita, but his heart went to another … Sasha. Daryl couldn't help but think of Aaron and Eric. It had been a similar situation, and it wasn't an easy thing for them to go through. Rosita was strong, though. She'd be alright. Besides, he thought he'd seen Rosita leaving Spenser's house late one evening. Maybe she already moved on.

Denise sat in the middle between Rosita and Daryl. The truck was cramped with the three of them, but they would just have to deal with it. After leaving the city and driving for a while, Denise was the first one to talk.

"I brought some granola bars. They're pretty close to the ones you used to could buy at the store." She stopped and noticed that Rosita and Daryl didn't even bother to acknowledge her presence. "I made them myself … from scratch." Denise sat awkwardly between these two power houses, and she never felt so out of place.

"You know where this place is?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah. Just stay on this road for a while. I'll tell you when we're getting close to our turn," Denise informed him.

"If we see any places to check on the way there, we're going to have to stop, but you're going to wait in the truck. Understood?" Rosita announced. She sounded like an army sergeant, probably from being around Abraham for so long.

Denise got the message. She was only here because she had the directions to the head shop where she thought they would find medicine. And because she was the doctor, she knew exactly what kind of medicine they'd need. Otherwise, she would just be in their way. Guess it wasn't enough knowing that if either one of them became sick or injured she was the only one who had the knowledge and the skill to save them. Maybe she could change their minds while out on this run. Denise would need to prove herself to be an equal player in order to gain their respect. But it was Daryl who she felt like she most connected with. They'd shared a moment when she patched him up after the invasion. They discovered what they had in common, and he reminded her of someone from her past life, someone she cared for and lost to the epidemic.

"Don't worry," Denise said to Rosita. "I'll do what you tell me to do." She sighed and hoped she had made the right decision to come along on the run.

* * *

Aaron decided to take over Rosita's shift as a gate guard while she was away for a few days. Daryl left the day before, and Aaron already missed him. Pulling guard duty helped pass the time, and it got his mind off his worry for Daryl and the others. He didn't like them being out there, but he knew how important it was to find medicine. He just hoped they would all be safe.

He finished his shift for the day and was walking home. Along the way, he observed many of the residents as they were getting back to a normal life again. Going past Glenn and Maggie's house, he watched as Glenn kissed her on the front porch before heading out to do something. He smiled at his wife and covered her belly with his hand, a proud papa to be. When he turned to leave, he saw Aaron on the sidewalk and waved. Maggie smile wide and waved to. Aaron waved back, happy to see the expecting couple so in love.

"Hey Aaron," said Enid, walking up behind Aaron, who had slowed down to wave.

"Hi Enid. Where you off to?" Aaron asked.

"Oh, Maggie invited me over. She's going to teach me how to make stew. She said it's time I pulled my weight around here." Enid didn't sound disappointed by this. The young girl had made quite a turn around after everything that recently happened. She wasn't around for the invasion, choosing to leave before things got really bad. Enid had always been an introvert, but Maggie was bringing her out of her shell. Working in the kitchen was a good step forward.

"That's good to hear," Aaron answered, and Enid went towards the steps of the house.

Meanwhile, Glenn met Aaron where he stood on the sidewalk. "How's it going?" Glenn asked.

"Going good. I'm working Rosita's gate guard duty while she's out with Daryl and Denise. It's been pretty quiet."

"No news is good news," Glenn responded, patting Aaron's shoulder. "Well, I'm off to see Rick. Talk to you later."

"Ok, man. Take it easy," said Aaron as he continued up the street.

He had promised Daryl he would check in on Carol, and this was the first he'd had any time to do that. Her house was only a couple down. Aaron worried about Carol. She wasn't herself lately, and that scared him. What if she decided to do something stupid while Daryl was gone? Aaron didn't know what all he could do to help her, but checking on her was the first thing on his agenda.

As he approached her house, he noticed she was sitting on the porch swing. An ashtray was on the seat next to her, and a pack of cigarettes too. Aaron wished she wouldn't smoke. It was a newly formed habit for her, and not too late to quite. He was about to turn towards her stairs when Tobin came out of the house. He went to Carol and smiled. She snuffed out her cigarette and moved the ashtray to make room for him. He sat down on the swing next to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Carol smiled shyly and nudged her shoulder against his playfully. Then she snuggled into his chest and Tobin wrapped his arm around her. The scene did Aaron's heart good. Maybe she was beginning to recover from the tragic events that happened earlier on. He still didn't know what happened to her after being captured by the Saviors. Unless she told Tobin, which he doubted, then no one knew.

Yes, life seemed to be getting back to some kind of normal in Alexandria. Now was the time for the deep breath, a time to relax and stretch before something else threatened the town. Aaron knew it would happen eventually. It always did.

Further up the road, Olivia came out of her garage, which was also the town's pantry. She was smiling and giddy with laughter. "That's really cute," she said to someone still inside the pantry. "I mean, the joke … not … well, you are too, but … uh … never mind," she blushed.

"It's alright. I knew what you meant, but I'll take the compliment anyways," said Jesus as he strolled out of the garage.

Aaron was surprised to see him here. After the job at the Savior's compound, Paul went straight back to Hilltop to tell Gregory what had happened and to make sure he understood that Alexandria kept their part of the bargain. Gregory could be a real stingy bastard sometimes.

"Paul, what brings you to Alexandria?" Aaron asked as he offered his hand to shake.

Paul shook it, but he grasped Aaron's arm with his free hand for maximum contact, establishing a solid friendship between them. "I just thought I'd come by and see how things are going here. Looks like all is well."

"So far, so good. We haven't had any trouble, and we've bulked up security," Aaron informed him.

"That's good," said Paul, but he still looked concerned.

"Something wrong?" Aaron asked.

"No, at least I don't think so." Paul removed his cap, which he didn't do often. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Aaron, you need to know that there are more Saviors out there. I hope you all realize that."

"Of course we do, and we're ready for them if they decide to attack."

"These guys are clever. They're not just going to come knocking. Because they haven't retaliated yet doesn't mean they're not going to," Paul warned.

"Hilltop is at the same risk. More if you ask me," said Aaron.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," said Paul as they walked along the street. "I think our communities need to work together. We need to amplify our communication. Alone we might not stand a chance against the threat, but if we can join forces maybe the Saviors will think twice before making a move."

"That means they would have to know we are working together, which is not what Gregory wanted."

Paul shook his head with disappointment. "Gregory is weak. He's a fool. Always has been, but he's anchored his ass in the leadership role just the same. My people don't want conflict and they go along with him, but I think that if they knew there was someone else willing to work with us, it would only boost their self-esteem. And with some training, they can become strong fighters. They just need a push, and I think you're people can give that to them."

"I've seen you fight, Paul. You have what it takes to teach them too. Don't sell yourself short. I mean," Aaron paused to laugh. "You gave Daryl a run for his money, and don't ever tell him I told you that."

Paul smiled modestly. "I appreciate that, Aaron. I really do."

The conversation stalled for a moment as they slowly strolled down the street. Aaron was at his house by now, and he stopped. "Would you like to come in for a minute? Have some water or tea or something?" he offered.

Paul shook his head. "Thanks but I don't think Daryl would appreciate my company very much."

"You are my guest and I am inviting you. And besides, Daryl is out on a supply run with Rosita and Denise."

Paul looked at the house behind Aaron, glancing it over from roof to manicured landscaping. "Just you and Daryl live here?"

"Yep," Aaron answered. "What do you say? Come in for a drink?"

"Twist my arm already," Paul joked. "Sure, but just for a little while."

They went into the house and Paul had a seat at the kitchen counter while Aaron got him a glass of water. When Aaron turned around, Paul was observing the rest of the house, and staring at all the license plates on the far wall. "A hobby of yours?" Paul asked.

"It used to be. Not any more though." Aaron looked at the plates too. "I don't know why I keep them up. I guess because it took so long to find them." He didn't mention that it was something that he and his late partner used to do to pass the time.

"You all are very lucky," Paul mentioned. "This community is a gem … a blessing compared to what some people have."

"What about you? You got your own place in Hilltop?" Aaron inquired.

"I have a room in the great house, but I don't stay there very often. I like to keep on the move as much as possible. I don't stay in Hilltop for very long periods at a time."

Aaron found that odd, but he knew Paul wasn't one for settling down. "So, where do you go?"

Paul smiled secretly. "I make my rounds and report back to Gregory. I'm his eyes and ears outside of the community. If I stayed at home for long, I'd never find out what was going on around us."

"That's a sketchy answer," Aaron challenged.

"It's all I'm willing to share at the moment." Paul looked guarded, but he smiled slyly. "You want to know so much about Hilltop, why don't you come back with me and I'll give you a tour."

Aaron wasn't expecting an invite, and he immediately began to decline before giving it any thought. "I really don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not? Daryl has seen it. Why not you?"

"Because Daryl isn't here," Aaron used as an excuse.

"So you need his permission to–"

"I don't need his permission for anything," Aaron retaliated quickly. "But we don't leave town without the other knowing about it. You know … just in case something should happen."

"How long is Daryl gone for?" Paul asked, not quite ready to give up yet.

"I don't know, two, maybe three days."

"Tell you what," Paul offered. "We can leave first thing in the morning, and I can have you home by sunset."

Aaron was finding it difficult to turn him down. Seeing another community, watching how they did things, how they lived, it had been a promise he made to Eric, and one that he meant to keep. "It's a very tempting offer." He thought some more. "Just one day, you say?"

Paul nodded. "That's all it will take, and you can see for yourself what it's like."

He really shouldn't do this, Aaron thought to himself. Daryl would kill him if he found out that Aaron went out on his own, but the urge to see Hilltop was winning out. "Let me just check on a couple things before I answer."

"I'm staying in Alexandria for the night. I'll be at the gate at sunrise if you want to come along. If you're not there, I'll know you changed you mind," Paul told him.

* * *

The next morning, Aaron was at the gate with a bag and his weapons. He actually arrived before Paul, just in case he had a change of heart at the last minute. He wasn't sure why he was wrestling with the idea of going to Hilltop with Paul. It would only be for the day. He would be there and back long before Daryl returned home. So why was he feeling so guilty about it? For one, he knew Daryl didn't like Paul, and to know that he went to Hilltop with his new friend might cause a blowup. For another, Aaron was doing this with Eric on his mind, another person Daryl never had any use for. He was suddenly feeling very trapped, and he didn't like it. This reminded Aaron of the relationship he was in just before the apocalypse. His boyfriend at the time didn't like him going places without him, but had no problem jetting between the U.S. and Europe. Well, it was his job, since he was an airline steward, but still.

"Good morning," Paul said as he approached from the side. He moved with the stealth of a cat, Aaron thought. He never heard the man coming. "It's good to see you, Aaron. You sure about going?" Paul smiled.

"You promise I can be home tonight?" Aaron checked again.

"If you wish, no problem," Paul assured him.

Aaron nodded. "I've got a car just outside the gate."

"Let's go then."

Aaron signaled to the gate guard. "I'm taking Jesus back to Hilltop if anyone asks," he called up to the guard. The man nodded and Aaron opened the gate. Him and Paul got in the car and were on their way.

It was a couple hours' drive to Hilltop, and during that time, Aaron and Paul got to know each other better. They talked about their experiences and how they got to where they were now. Aaron told him about Eric, and went into more depth about his need to find other communities.

"And that's why you're going," Paul remarked part way through the story.

Aaron kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, but his thoughts went back to the night that Eric died in his arms. "I made him a promise that I would investigate. Daryl and I had some terrible arguments about it, though. He didn't want me risking my life for something that might not exist."

"But it does exist," Paul said. They were silent for a few moments. "Daryl doesn't seem to want go too far from Alexandria, does he?"

"He's been through a lot, and not just since the outbreak. He's had a difficult time of things, and he's not very trusting. You should have seen him when he first came to Alexandria. He was like a caged animal, pacing and snarling at everyone who tried to talk to him. He was easily spooked. I should know. It was me who got him to start trusting us."

"I bet that was a major feat," Paul mentioned facetiously.

"It wasn't easy, that's for sure. But now … he protects Alexandria like a crown jewel."

Paul smiled tight lipped and look down. "The same way he protects you," he said softly.

"I guess so," Aaron said, not able to hide a smile at the thought. It was true, though.

"I was like Daryl once," Paul admitted. "Before the outbreak, I was madly in love with the greatest guy," he reminisced. "When the reports started coming in about people attacking each other, before they really knew what was happening, I made him promise me he wouldn't go out without telling me where he was going. He did as I asked at first, but then he went out this one time with some friends, and I didn't know where he was. I came home and he wasn't there. Then, when I turned on the TV, a local reporter was on the scene of a fight that broke out at a club we frequented. There were all kinds of ambulances and police cars, lights flashing all over the street in front of the place. Of course, I rushed down there looking for Bryce; that was his name. When I didn't find him, I went home, and there he was. He was watching the news. I walked in and he started telling me about the fight at our hangout. I ignored him and asked where he'd been. I couldn't reach him on his phone, and I was beside myself with worry. They'd gone bowling that night, he told me with a laugh. I was so mad at him for freaking me out, and I just laid into him. We yelled and screamed, and after a couple days of fighting, he finally forgave me. After that, I kind of became very possessive. Bryce didn't appreciate it. Said he was feeling smothered, and that I was just insecure like a dog who suffered from separation anxiety. Those were his exact words." Paul stopped to laugh at that. "I guess I did go a little crazy, but I just wanted to keep him safe."

"What happened to him?" Aaron asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

"He left me a note on the table that said he felt trapped … that I was too possessive, and that he was on a plane back to Houston, where his family lived. I tried calling him for a couple weeks, but he never answered my calls. It wasn't long after that when the plague made its way to our city, a town outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. I'd heard the rumors and split, kept on the move as everything went down. For once I was glad to be an asshole, otherwise, Bryce might not have made it home. I only hope he survived everything."

Aaron thought about what Paul said, and found himself feeling a little like that with Daryl. Only it wasn't the outbreak that made everything spin out of control. It was the Saviors, and what Rick and their group had done to them at their compound. Killing all those people had put Daryl on edge. He expected retaliation, but he kept his opinions to himself. The only thing he made his feelings known about was needing to know where Aaron was all the time.

"So, what about you?" Paul asked after a long silence. "Where were you when it all went down?"

"I was in New York, living with a guy … dating a guy, I should say. He worked for an airline, a steward, actually, so he wasn't home very often, but he always wanted me home. Like a fool, I did that for him. When he was home we were together every moment, but when he was away, I lived a very lonely life. I'd think about going to the club, but feel guilty because I wasn't going with him. So I'd stay home. Instead of going out and doing the things I wanted to do, I'd put them on a list and wait until Jack came home. But then, when he was home, we locked ourselves away in our apartment, and tried to make up for lost time if you know what I mean." Aaron adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him. He suddenly realized that he'd never told anyone the details of his relationship … not Eric, not even Daryl. He had only told them the outline of the story. Now he understood why. He was embarrassed by his actions and his choices. He didn't want them to know he had been that kind of person, because he was not that man any more. But telling it to Paul was like confessing a secret, and it felt very freeing. "Like you, reports started coming in about people getting sick and behaving strangely. I remember one expert saying he thought it was due to a new drug on the street. For me, it was just another reason to stay at home when Jack was working. Then things started getting really weird. Jack was away and I was worried. I called him to see what the news was like overseas. It was eight in the evening in New York, and I knew it was late where he was … one in the morning. He'd be asleep, but I didn't care. I needed to know he was alright. Well, I called … only … it wasn't Jack who answered. Some British guy sluggishly said hello and I hung up."

"Shit, sorry man," Paul comforted.

"Yeah … well. I felt so used, so stupid for thinking I was special to him only to find out that I was just a layover screw. That's why we never went anywhere or did anything," Aaron said, voice full of regret.

"What did you do?" Paul questioned.

Aaron half smiled, sadness rimming his eyes. "I stood at the window of our apartment, looked out over the city and asked myself what the hell I was doing. That wasn't who I was. That wasn't who I was supposed to be. I was letting life pass me by for someone who didn't even love me. And when Jack called in the morning–"

"He called you?" Paul interrupted. "Did he know?"

"Yeah, he knew. I guess the English guy told him about the phone call in the middle of the night. Anyways, I told Jack it was over. He asked me to stay so we could talk things through. I told him I was done, and that I'd be gone when he got back. Then, as I was packing my stuff up, I turned on the news and heard about the chaos in the city. They were getting ready to close it all down. No one in or out. Flights to and from LaGuardia were cancelled. Eventually all air traffic came to a halt. Jack was stuck over in the UK. I wasn't sticking around either. I packed a few things in a backpack and got the hell out of New York just in time. I had friends in Washington I'd called earlier, so that's where I went."

"And what happened to Jack?" Paul inquired.

Aaron shrugged. "Don't know. I guess he never made it back to the states. Maybe he's in a community over there like this one here. Maybe he didn't survive. I just don't know."

"Well, we're here so I guess that's all that really matters," Paul said with confidence, though Aaron thought he still had some regrets of his past.

Silence fell between them again. This time it lasted for a few miles. Then, Paul smiled and pointed ahead of them. "We're here."

Aaron drove down the dirt road and stopped when he saw the wall. They exited the car and grabbed their gear. When he stood straight again, Aaron observed the wall that surrounded the Hilltop community. It was made of wood, very tall logs, trees that undoubtedly came from the surrounding land. It didn't look as sturdy as the corrugated metal wall Alexandria had, but it was still intimidating. Two men stood at the top of the wall on either side of the gate. Paul called up to them and announced who his visitor was. The men, Aaron noticed, had rifles, but they weren't aimed at him. Daryl had mentioned their hostility when he and the group arrived. Now, anyone from Alexandria was considered an ally instead of a threat, especially after keeping their word about getting their man back from the Saviors.

Paul turned to Aaron and smiled wide. "Welcome to Hilltop. Come on." He led the way through the opened gates and Aaron followed.

The first thing Aaron noticed was the FEMA trailers lined up along one side of the yard. Some had solar panels on top. He remembered Daryl telling him they didn't have electricity. They must not work, he thought to himself. There were other buildings that lined the left side of the dirt path, which led to what Paul referred to as the great house. All of these were built from wood with metal roofs. These were their work buildings, each one serving a different purpose. One in particular was most definitely a blacksmith. There was a tall muscular man wearing a long leather apron just walking inside. Leaning against the outside of the building was a row spears, their main form of weapon since running out of ammunition. That was another bit of information that Paul had shared with Alexandria in order to gain their trust.

Aaron saw women and children all doing something, some kind of chore. No one was just sitting around doing nothing. A couple children were inside a chicken coop with buckets, sprinkling feed around. The chickens were clucking anxiously, pecking and scratching at the ground. Aaron smiled as he watched the children laugh. "I never thought I'd see that again."

Paul followed Aaron's line of sight. "Chickens?" he questioned.

"No. Children laughing."

"Today's a good day," Paul mentioned. He pointed around the yard. "There's a barn and a blacksmith shop. They were here with the house."

"It's huge," Aaron said as he looked at the large red brick mansion. It was three stories, the top floor all dormer windows, seven across the front and four on the sides. The front of the house was made of more windows and a balcony, white columns and spindle railing. It was a very old building. That was for sure.

"Its name is Barrington House, built in the 1930's. When the Barrington family sold it to the state, it was turned into a museum. Now, it's our home. It's actually in a really good place, up high on this hill. You can see for miles around. No one can sneak up on us here," Paul told him.

"What about those trailers?" Aaron asked. "I see they have solar panels."

"Yeah, they stopped working about a year ago. We have no way of fixing them."

"Eugene could do it," Aaron suggested. "He's a genius when it comes to stuff like that. Our whole grid was in danger of shutting down, but he knew what parts needed replacing. As a matter of fact, he might even be able to get electricity to the entire colony if we can find what he needs."

"Just getting the trailers running again would be a huge plus. The summer heat is difficult on our elderly. We've lost a couple people due to that. Gregory puts our older residents up in the house now. At least they can open windows and hope for a cross breeze."

"We'll have to see what we can do about that. I'll talk to Eugene when I get home."

Paul smiled at Aaron. "Thanks. That'd be great." He gestured to the house. "Come on in and I'll give you the tour."

The inside of the house was typical for the times. Lace curtains with heavy swags topping each window. Wood floors and large area rugs to protect them in heavy traffic areas. The front foyer was very open with stairs to one side that led to the upper floors. A set of French doors revealed an office. There were other rooms on the bottom floor, probably a kitchen and a library amongst them. It was a massive house full of antiques and multiple portraits of what must have been the Barrington family. Aaron half expected a tour guide to come out and meet him, and tell him to hold off on taking pictures until the tour was over. But this place was no longer a museum. It was home to survivors of the apocalypse, and it was perfect. This house was built before modern technology became a way of life. It was easily adaptable to life as it was now, especially with everything off the grid. And with so many rooms, it could house a lot of people.

While Aaron took in the sight of the massive house, he heard someone call out to Paul. He looked back to see who it was. A man stood across the room wearing a white coat and a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, short brown hair, and easy on the eyes. Paul, Aaron noticed, sighed before he excused himself. "I'll be right back."

"Sure," Aaron answered, and he stepped over to a table that held a set of unique vases. He pretended to be interested in them, but he was watching Paul from the corner of his eye. Paul approached the man and stood before him. He looked stern as the man smiled at him. Aaron knew that kind of smile. He'd seen Eric look like that often, especially after they split apart and Aaron started seeing Daryl. It was a look of longing that wasn't easily mistaken. But Aaron had asked Paul if there was someone waiting for him in Hilltop, and he'd said no. Perhaps he was just trying to cover any evidence to protect his people.

The man in the white coat laid his palm against Paul's chest. Paul closed his eyes and listened to the man speak, but he took the hand from his person and gently lowered it so that they weren't making any contact. Paul shook his head, and the man in the coat looked disappointed, as his head hung. He nodded, agreeing with whatever Paul said, but as Paul was turning to leave, the man grabbed his hand to stop him. Paul closed his eyes, and didn't open them as he turned to face his company. Aaron could read his lips. "Not now," he told the man. He waited until the man released his hand. Paul looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't say another word. He stood there a few moments while his acquaintance walked away. Then he turned to look at Aaron. Feeling like an intruder, Aaron spun around and touched the vases next to where he was. He could hear Paul coming up to him.

"Sorry about that," Paul apologized.

Aaron gave him an awkward smile. "No problem."

"That … uh … that was … um–" Paul stammered.

Aaron shook his head. "No need to explain. Your secret is safe with me. I know how it is."

"Oh … ha … no … it's no secret. I mean … the people here know … about me. It's just … well … it's complicated."

"I completely understand complicated. After all, I'm with Daryl," Aaron chortled.

"You're lucky though. You two have a solid relationship." Paul paused and turned to look, making sure they were alone. "That was Alex. He's my … my . . ." Paul's words dropped off as he tried to explain.

"Your complication," Aaron responded with a bashful smile. Now he understood why Paul seemed to push Alex away. "I had one of those too. I understand." The way Alex approached Paul made Aaron wonder if Paul had ever talked to him about whatever their situation was. That wasn't any of his business though. "So, what else do you have to show me?" Aaron said quickly to change the subject.

"I'll show you the other floors, introduce you to some of our residents. Is that alright?" Paul offered.

"Great. Let's go," Aaron said cheerily, the awkward moment now behind them.

Aaron met some very nice people who resided at Hilltop Colony. They were a lot like the Alexandria residents, just people who wanted to try and live a normal life again. They didn't want confrontation, but they knew there would always be threats out there. Some of these people were elderly, and they depended on Gregory's leadership to keep the place safe. Aaron had met Gregory too, and he could see why Maggie called him an asshole. It's a good thing Alexandria's fighters came along when they did, and put an end to the Savior's threats. Gregory wasn't going to do anything except keep giving in to them. It had just about cost Hilltop all of their things. They were running low on some supplies, and it got a few of their people killed when the Saviors weren't happy with the month's payment. Hopefully, they wouldn't be a problem anymore, and Alexandria would answer the call if they became one again.

"Well," Paul started to say when they were through looking around the place. "If we leave now, we'll get back just before dark."

"We?" Aaron inquired.

"I'm not going to let you drive all that way alone. It's not safe to travel by yourself," Paul said. Aaron was about to protest, but he stopped him. "Unless you're me. I do it all the time, but I know a lot about the terrain, and I'm quick and smart." Paul laughed. "Not to brag on myself of course."

Aaron laughed with him and looked around. It was a shame to have to go so soon. He felt very relaxed here, and he got along really well with some of the people. He kind of wished he didn't have to go just yet. Paul must have seen the conflict too. "Or," he offered. "You can stay the night. We have plenty of room, and tonight we're having fried chicken."

"It's a very tempting offer but . . ." Aaron was about to refuse, but Paul gave him a pleading look. "I really shouldn't, but … fine."

Paul's smile widened as he slapped Aaron on the back. "I knew you'd stay. It's the fried chicken, gets them every time. And I was hoping you wouldn't make me miss it either."

"As long as we can leave early in the morning. I want to be back home as soon as I can, just in case Daryl comes back," Aaron told him.

"Of course. Come on, I'll show you to your room."

Dinner was wonderful and so were the people. Aaron was really impressed by everything about Hilltop. He never would have imagined it, but if it weren't for Eric . . . That's really why he was here. He owed it to Eric to find out for himself about this place. Eric wouldn't have hesitated to come here. Maybe, if they had known earlier, he would have moved here and he'd still be alive. Or maybe he would have been a victim of the Saviors. There was no telling how Eric's future would have played out. Aaron just wished he had been more supportive of him, especially now that he knew Eric was right.

Night had settled in, and Aaron was sitting by the fire pit with Paul and a few other residents. They had been exchanging stories about their lives before the outbreak and how they got to the place they were now. Aaron shared his story about joining a NGO that ran supplies to the people living in the Niger River Delta. They had a lot of questions about that, and it explained his charitable personality. Paul sat across from him, and he looked absolutely intrigued to learn this about Aaron.

"Now I see why you were chosen to be a recruiter for Alexandria," Paul observed.

"I had a lot of experience with people, good and bad. I had more than a few guns shoved in my face long before it became a normal thing to do," Aaron explained. "What about you? Why were you picked for the job?"

Paul laughed. "Who wouldn't trust this face?"

The guy sitting next to Paul punched him in the arm as he laughed. Ted was his name, a tall skinny twenty something who still had acne. "Has he dropped the Jesus jokes on you yet?"

"A couple," Aaron said and laughed.

The conversation continued about Paul and his talents, one being his martial arts training. Paul sat silent and listened to them talk, but he didn't add anything to their stories. Aaron thought that was a good personality trait to have, to be humble and not boast. Paul was very down to earth and easy going. There was no drama with him, but Aaron could tell there was more to him than he led on.

Aaron finally managed to excuse himself, claiming his need for sleep if he was planning on leaving before daybreak. Paul got up too. "I'll walk with you," he said. They said goodnight to the others and went back to the house.

Aaron was at his door and stopped, turning to Paul. "Good night. I'll see you in a few hours. Where shall we meet?"

"How about the foyer," Paul suggested.

Aaron smiled and nodded. "Great. See you in the morning." He started to open his bedroom door when Paul stopped him.

"Oh, hey. I almost forgot. There's a bathroom half way down the hall on the other side. With everything else that doesn't work around here, running water is not one of them."

"Thanks," Aaron said and disappeared into his bedroom.

Sometime during the night, Aaron woke up worrying about Daryl coming home and not finding him there. His thoughts got the better of him and he couldn't go back to sleep. If he was home, he would take a walk. It always helped him to clear his mind so he could sleep. But he was afraid to go walking around the Hilltop community. He was just a guest, and still a stranger here. It might look like he was snooping around if someone saw him, and there were guards on duty every minute of the day and night. Not wanting to draw unwanted attention to himself, Aaron opted for strolling along the hallways, but first he needed to use the restroom. He remembered Paul pointing out where to find it, and headed that way. After relieving himself, he started to leave the bathroom, and heard footsteps in the hallway. Aaron peeked out of the partially cracked open door to see if he knew who it was. The brown hair was familiar. It was Alex. He went to Paul's door and lightly knocked. After a few moments, Paul's door opened.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" Paul asked in hushed tones.

"I couldn't sleep," Alex answered. He lifted his hand, and Aaron noticed he held something, a book to be exact. "I thought maybe–"

"No," Paul refused.

"But, remember how you'd read to me when I couldn't sleep?" Alex pleaded. "It's been a long time since then."

"I don't think this is a good idea," Paul told him.

"Please, Paul. Come on. I saw how you looked at me today. You can't deny that you felt something too."

Paul's eyes darted down and back up, observing Alex's lithe frame. "Didn't I warn you last time? That was supposed to be the end of it. What about Wes?"

Wes, Aaron thought to himself. That was a new name. There was definitely some kind of love triangle going on here, and he wondered why Paul had told him he didn't have anyone in Hilltop.

"Wes is pulling duty tonight, but you already knew that because he's covering your shift." Alex reached out and touched Paul's bare chest.

"It's not what you think. I only asked him to cover for me because I was entertaining our guest," Paul answered.

"Well, your babysitting duty is done for tonight, but you can entertain me instead," Alex said seductively. "Please? We can just read. I promise. Nothing more."

Paul let out a quiet chortle. "You know what that always leads to though." He sighed, and then looked both ways into the hall. "Alright, come on in."

Alex smiled and let himself in. Paul glanced around the hall one more time, then he closed the door.

"Well, you sly fox," Aaron said to himself. "So it seems mister righteous has a booty call. And here I thought he was all alone. I still don't see why he covered that up when I asked him about it. That's his business though." Aaron opened the bathroom door and hurried back to his room. He still couldn't sleep, but now he was thinking about Paul and the sad routine he put on when Aaron first asked him about relationships. Why had he lied and said that there was no one waiting for him at Hilltop? And who was this Wes fellow? It started to bother Aaron to think that Paul was sneaking around with another man's lover. He thought more of Paul than to imagine him in that way. Maybe he had been wrong about him. After all, Paul tried flirting with him when they first met, and even after he found out that Aaron was already in a committed relationship. "I really thought he had more scruples than that," he thought to himself. It was a real disappointment to find this out about Paul. Aaron suddenly missed Daryl tremendously, and he could hardly wait to get home.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37 Revenge Upon a Man**

Aaron stood in the dark foyer of the great house in Hilltop waiting for Paul to come down. The sun wouldn't come up for another hour, and he wanted to get on the road back home. He felt guilty for leaving town when Daryl wasn't there, and worried that he'd already returned to find Aaron missing. The trip to Hilltop, he felt, was necessary. He wanted to see it for himself, to know that there actually was another community out there. He felt good about this place and its people, all except for Gregory, but Paul seemed to have things in order. Paul was good at that. Hilltop needed him to keep the balance. He might say that his only job was a scout, but he was much more than that. He helped Gregory make important decisions, made sure the people were happy and safe, and now he was a trustworthy informant to Alexandria. Still, Aaron thought there was something he wasn't telling. When Aaron first met him, he'd mentioned trading with other communities, but he had yet to give up where any of those places might be. He was protecting them as well. Aaron thought that it wasn't because he didn't trust Alexandria, but that he was keeping information like that at a minimum for safety reasons. Maybe some of these places hadn't been discovered by the Saviors yet. All it would take was one person to mention a name, and the secrecy of these places would be discovered. Whatever his reasons, Aaron was still thrilled to think that there were even more places where people were trying to return society to something normal.

Aaron heard a door open upstairs, and hushed voices speaking in the hall. Paul emerged from the shadows, and stood at the railing. He looked down and saw Aaron waiting. He waved and took a step towards the stairs when someone caught him by the arm and pulled him backwards.

"I gotta go," Paul whispered.

"I know. Just one more thing," said Alex, who wrapped his fingers in Paul's hair as he brought him down for a kiss.

Aaron, feeling like an intruder, turned away, but he could still hear the sound of lips upon each other, and the rustle of clothes where hands roamed.

"Tonight?" Alex whispered seductively.

"We shouldn't have last night," Paul answered.

"Which time?" Alex said, the sound of laughter in his voice.

"I have to leave," Paul said again to his lover.

"You could have said no," Alex told him.

"I think I did."

"Come on Paul. Why can't we–"

"You know why. We tried. It didn't work. And besides, you're with Wes. Listen, I can't talk about this now, and you need to get home before he gets off duty," Paul said. The sound of footsteps came down the stairs.

Aaron waited until he knew Paul was all the way down before he turned around. He just caught a glimpse of Alex walking back to his room before the darkened hall swallowed him. His eyes turned immediately to Paul and he gave a tight lipped smile. "Ready to go?" Aaron didn't know what else to say.

Paul knew Aaron had heard their conversation, and he seemed embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that."

"Not my business," Aaron told him as he picked up his pack from the floor.

They got in the car and took off for Alexandria. It was still dark, but the horizon was just starting to glow. It was very dim, but it got brighter with every second that passed. And each minute in the car together felt like an hour, as they traveled in awkward silence. They must have been almost halfway there before either man spoke.

"You must think I'm horrible," Paul announced out of nowhere.

"Why would you say that?" said Aaron, playing dumb.

"Never mind." Paul seemed to think it was better to drop the whole thing.

"It's just . . ." Aaron started to say after a few silent moments, but he thought better of it.

"What?" Paul asked, curious about what Aaron was going to say.

Aaron thought for a minute before he spoke again. "When I asked, you said you had no one in Hilltop, but obviously–"

"It's a long complicated story," Paul interrupted.

"Again, it's not my place to inquire," Aaron said. "I apologize."

"I didn't say anything because I didn't want anyone to know," Paul admitted.

"Know what? That you're gay?"

"Not that. I don't care about that," Paul answered.

"Oh, that you're having an affair," Aaron said. His tone was gently not harsh, in case Paul wanted to talk about it.

"It's not an affair," Paul defended. "Alex and I used to be a couple, but it didn't work out."

"If it didn't work out then why are you still sleeping with him?"

Paul shifted in the passenger seat and stared out the window. "I don't want to. It just happens from time to time. Like I said, it's complicated."

"Yeah," Aaron said. There was something about the way he said it that bothered Paul and he felt he needed to explain. He suddenly became very guarded.

"Don't sit there and judge me, as though you've never acted on urges. What about you? You had a lover when you met Daryl. Are you going to tell me you never met him privately?"

"What Eric and I had was already broken before Daryl came to Alexandria. And when I decided what my heart really wanted, I ended it before I pursued Daryl." Aaron's foot pushed down on the gas pedal and they sped down the road. "I'm not going to discuss my love life with you. All I'm suggesting is that you shouldn't lead someone on. It's not right."

"I'm not leading him on," Paul said defensively. "You know what? Let's just drop it. You wouldn't understand."

They were quiet for the rest of the way back to Alexandria. Once they got there, they parked outside of the gate and exited the car, grabbing their stuff from the back. Aaron didn't want to leave things on a bad note, but he decided to keep it professional.

"I'll talk to Rick about your ideas, but you're going to have to let us in on these other communities you trade with. Hilltop can't be the only one reaping the benefits. If we all have different things to trade for, we can help each other out better," Aaron suggested.

"It's definitely something to work towards, but until Alexandria has more to offer than muscle . . ." Paul negotiated.

"We're working on that, but it won't be until next summer when things really start to flourish. All in due time I guess."

Paul smiled and offered his hand to Aaron. "We'll keep working on it then." He turned towards the road they just came in on and started to walk away.

"Don't you want a lift back or something? I'm sure someone here can drive you back home," Aaron offered.

"No that's alright. I'll manage. I've got a car stashed not far from here, and I've got some scavenging to do on my way back."

Aaron had no idea Paul had a car. He was very secretive, and for good reason. "Take it easy," Aaron said as Paul walked down the road. Paul waved at him, and then disappeared into the trees. Aaron headed for the gate. He looked up and saw Sasha with her shotgun, pulling guard duty like always. She looked down at him, serious straight face and no smile. That wasn't unusual though. He went to the gate and pounded it twice. It started to roll to the side. Aaron expected to see Eugene, who usually had gate duty, but to his surprise it was Rosita. At first he was glad to see her, until it dawned on him exactly what that meant. Daryl came home early. Shit, Aaron said to himself. This was not how he wanted it to go.

"Rosita. Hey," Aaron said surprised. "You're back. Did you find the apothecary?"

"We found way more than we wanted," she said somberly, staring at Aaron.

"When did you get in?" he asked. Maybe it had just been a couple hours.

"Got back yesterday," she said, glaring at him. Something was off. She seemed much more tense than usual. "You need to find Daryl."

"Why?" he said with instant concern. "What happened?"

"Denise is dead," she blurted out with no emotions.

"What?" Aaron said unbelievingly. "She can't be. W-what hap–"

"Go find Daryl," was all she told him before she turned back to close the gate.

Aaron's hand went to his head, fingers traveling over his short brown hair. "Shit," he said quietly, and went towards home. Along the way, he passed Carol's house. She was sitting on the swing, cigarette between her fingers, looking into the distance. She didn't acknowledge him as he went by, and Aaron was in too big of a hurry to say hello, but he did notice the dirt on her face and clothes, and wondered where she'd been.

Finally, Aaron arrived at his house, and he went straight in. He looked to the kitchen and then to the living room. Daryl was sitting on the couch. Aaron slowly went to him, stood behind him, and laid a gentle hand on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl was still and his muscles were tense. There was no reaction to Aaron's touch.

"I just saw Rosita," Aaron started. "She told me about Den–"

"Where were you?" Daryl said, his tone low and graveled like a tiger's growl.

"I just got back," Aaron said, hoping to avoid what was coming, but he knew there was no getting around it.

"You left town," Daryl said in the same dangerous tone.

"I did and I'm sorry, but the opportunity was there and–"

"I thought we had an agreement."

"I know. It's just–"

Daryl flew from the couch, away from Aaron's touch. He went to the hearth and stood there with his back to Aaron. "Where did you go?" he asked calm and evenly.

"I … I was going to come back last night, but–"

"Where … did … you … go?" Daryl asked again, his words slow as anger was building.

"Daryl, please, let me–"

Daryl spun around, his eyes glaring slits of rage. "Where the fuck did you go!" he shouted, devoid of any patience.

"Hilltop," Aaron answered. "I went … to Hilltop."

"Why?" Daryl said with a raised tone.

"Paul was here, and we were talking about trade between our communities. He invited me to see Hilltop for myself, and so I went."

"You shouldn't have gone," Daryl berated him. "It's too dangerous out there."

Aaron dared to approach Daryl, and this time he didn't shy away. "I wasn't going to. I know how you feel about that, and you weren't here to talk to. I made the decision to go. I made the decision to stay overnight. But I needed to see it. I needed to know what Hilltop was like. I've only seen Alexandria since all of this started. I needed to know that there were people out there like us who just want to–"

"Did you sleep with him?" Daryl said in an accusatory way.

"What?" Aaron asked disbelievingly. "Who?"

"You know who. Did you sleep with him … with Jesus or Paul or whoever the fuck he is?"

Aaron didn't answer right away. He was shocked that Daryl would think such a thing. "Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?" He was hurt that Daryl didn't trust him.

"Because you fucking left town with him and stayed there for the night. So yeah, I'm asking if you fucked him. Is that why you went?" Daryl's voice rose with the anger of a mad man.

Aaron backed away from Daryl, slowly shaking his head. He couldn't believe they were having this conversation. "I went for the good of our community. I went because we need to move forward with an alliance with Hilltop. Because we need to do more than be their bodyguards." Aaron's hand went to the back of his neck and he bent his head down. He could feel a headache coming on. Ever since getting hit in the head and suffering from amnesia, he occasionally had migraines. They were usually brought on by stress, and right now he was aggravated and on the verge of outrage. "I don't want a fight. Not now. Not with everything that's happened."

"You don't even know," Daryl seethed. "Denise is … dead. Eugene is at the infirmary."

"Eugene?" Aaron said with shock. "I thought he was with Abraham checking on some abandoned building."

"They were, and then he was snagged by the Saviors. He was hurt in a shootout." Daryl bowed his head. "But Denise … she didn't even know what happened. It was quick." He went silent, the scene unfolding before him again.

Aaron rushed to Daryl, grasped his shoulders and tried to get them to connect, but Daryl wouldn't look up. "Daryl, I am so sorry I wasn't here. It was wrong. I know that, but you have to believe me when I tell you nothing happened between Paul and I. I would never do anything like that to hurt you. I know you're emotional right now, and you have every right to be." He tried to pull Daryl in, to hold him, but Daryl pulled from Aaron's grasp and shook his head.

"I … I can't stay here. I can't do this right now. I just … I gotta get the fuck out of here," Daryl admitted.

"I'll go with–"

"No," Daryl interrupted. "I … I can't be here. Leave me alone, alright? I … I gotta go." He pushed Aaron out of the way and left the house.

Aaron didn't know where he was going, but he wouldn't follow him. Daryl needed space right now. When he was ready, they would talk it out. Aaron just hoped he'd give up on the idea that anything happened between himself and Paul.

* * *

The day passed quietly. The townspeople were in shock over Denise's death. What would they do now? She was they're doctor and she was gone. But even in death, she had helped the community by showing Daryl and Rosita where there was a stash of medicine. Luckily, there had been antibiotics mixed in with all of it, and they used that to help Eugene. The wound wasn't as serious as they thought. He would be fine.

Aaron was going to check up on Carol, remembering her somber look when he'd seen her on her porch. She had had dirt on her face and clothes, and now that the thought about it, so did Daryl. It dawned on him that they must have buried Denise. The guilt of not being there for Daryl when he needed him most was overwhelming.

As he was about to cross the street to Carol's house, Aaron caught movement in the gardens and saw Maggie kneeling in the soil. Even from this distance, she didn't look well. Aaron went to her instead.

"Hi Maggie," he greeted.

Maggie looked up, squinting against the afternoon sun. "Oh, hey Aaron." She sounded short of breath.

"You alright?" he asked. Now he could see how pale she was.

"Fine," she answered, but clearly something was bothering her. She could see that Aaron didn't believe her. "I'm just really tired. Morning sickness has gotten the best of me today." She tried to stand, but Aaron rushed to her and took her arm, helping her up. "Thanks," she said with a fatigued smile.

"You should be resting. In your condition–"

"I'm not dying, Aaron. I'm pregnant," she jested, but it was obvious she'd done too much already.

"Come on, I'll walk you home." Aaron linked his arm with hers and they went towards her house. Once inside, Aaron searched her cabinets until he found some tea. Then he put a kettle on the stove and waited. They sat together at the kitchen island.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Aaron inquired, worried about her.

"I'll be fine. It's just been a long day. Glenn and I have been finding places to stash guns around town, just in case we're invaded again. We shouldn't get caught off guard like we did last time."

"You're worried about a retaliation too," he stated and she nodded. "I don't see how it's not going to be an issue. What we did … no one would let that go by the wayside."

"But we have to move forward, no matter what might or might not happen."

Aaron took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah," he whispered, seemingly a thousand miles away.

"So, when are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Maggie asked.

"Why would you think that?" Aaron said to cover his emotions.

"Come on, Aaron. I know you weren't here when Daryl got home. I saw him yesterday. He was too quiet, and he wouldn't let anyone near him. I tried to talk to him, but he brushed me off. He's devastated about Denise."

"He won't talk to me either. He thinks I betrayed him because I left Alexandria." Aaron pushed his empty teacup away, crossed his arms and laid his head on them. He couldn't tell her that Daryl accused him of sleeping with Paul. "He hates me."

Maggie rubbed her hand over his back to soothe him. "Daryl doesn't hate you."

Aaron lifted his head to look at Maggie. "You didn't see the look in his eyes. We've fought before, but this was something completely different. I deceived him when I went to Hilltop. We made a pact that if one of us was away, the other wouldn't leave. I broke his trust, and you know how difficult that is to acquire. I know he's suffering over Denise, and the fact that I wasn't here for him just made it all that much worse."

"You need to talk to him. You need to let him tell you what happened. Do you even know? Has anyone told you?" she asked.

"I know they were ambushed, and there was a shootout. Eugene got hurt and Denise was hit and killed." he told her. No one had gone into any detail. Perhaps it was too soon to talk about it. "I'm guessing it was the Saviors?" he inquired, afraid to know for sure.

"It wasn't just Saviors. It was one in particular. It was the man from the burnt forest, the one Daryl saved, who held him at gunpoint and took his bike and his bow," Maggie gently informed him.

"Jesus, I didn't know that. Shit. Daryl's always second guessed himself about letting that guy go," Aaron said with regret. This information made everything worse.

"Rosita told me they were heading back to the car after getting the meds and they stopped for a moment. That's when Denise was shot. No one saw it coming. Daryl feels responsible for her death. He's taking it really hard."

Aaron was stunned into silence. He stood from the stool and looked blankly around Maggie's house. He shook his head in disbelief.

Maggie stood and went to Aaron. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his back to give him some kind of comfort. "Find Daryl. Make him talk to you. Listen to him. He needs someone to confide in or I'm afraid he's going to do something very stupid. I've seen it before. But he has you now, and when you weren't here to talk to, he folded in on himself and shut down. That's a very dangerous place for Daryl to be, especially right now. I've seen him self-destruct. You don't want to know what he's like, and it's even harder to pull him back."

The tea was ready, but he'd suddenly lost his appetite. He made a cup for Maggie and stayed while she drank it, just to make sure she was alright. Aaron thought Maggie looked better now that she had rested, but she still seemed tired. When they were finished, he washed up her dishes and made her sit on the couch. "You need to stay home for the rest of the day. I'm worried about you."

She smiled. "I told you I'm fine. Pregnancy makes women tired, that's all."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Maggie started to get up, but Aaron put a hand on her shoulder to make her stay. Then he went to the door, and let Enid in.

"Glenn sent me to check on Maggie," she said.

"I'm in here," Maggie called from the living room. "Tell Glenn I'm fine."

Enid started to turn back towards the door, but Aaron stopped her. "You stay here and keep Maggie company. I'll go and tell Glenn so he won't worry."

"You're supposed to go and talk to Daryl," Maggie yelled from the couch.

Enid looked at Aaron questioningly. "Why, what's up with you and Daryl?"

"Long story and none of your business," Aaron said with an arched brow.

"No one ever tells me anything around her," Enid complained.

Aaron gave her a push towards the living room. "I'm going right now," he called to Maggie.

"Good luck, Aaron, and if there's anything you need, you know where I'll be."

Aaron left Maggie's house and found that the sun was just beginning its descent. He walked down the street and thought about where he'd find Daryl. He would doubtfully be home, wanting to avoid Aaron at the moment. Aaron gave a sigh and wondered how to start the conversation with him. Before Daryl left the house, he couldn't even look at Aaron. How was he going to get him to open up to him about his devastating experience? He gave some thought to Daryl and Denise, about the bond they were just beginning to form. She had really looked up to him, and had tried to get him to accept her. Denise had been there when Daryl got deathly sick. She had stitched him up more than a few times. He was going to teach her how to fight when they got back from their run. Aaron suddenly knew where Daryl would be. It was the same place where Aaron used to go after Eric died, the cemetery.

* * *

Aaron looked around the corner to the graveyard, noticing all the head markers that now stood there. He hadn't been here in a while or maybe he had only noticed Eric's grave at the time, but it seemed like there were more now. He could see the mound of fresh earth and a makeshift cross erected at the head of a grave. Daryl was sitting on the ground Indian style, head hanging down, his long dark hair curtaining his face. He had something in his hand that he kept turning over and over, looking at it every once in a while. Aaron wondered how long he had been there, but it was probably most of the day. He entered the quiet sanctuary and slowly made his way to Daryl until he was standing next to him. Daryl never looked up, never acknowledged Aaron's presence. Perhaps he deserved to be ignored, but this couldn't keep going on. They needed to talk.

"Go home," Daryl said in barely a whisper. His voice was horse, and Aaron wondered how long it had been since Daryl slept.

"I'm not going home without you."

"Whatever," Daryl complained.

Aaron sat down on the ground next to Daryl. He didn't' say another word. He decided that he would remain silent, and let Daryl decide when it was time to talk again. He knew Daryl needed to be in charge, especially when he was angry.

Thirty minutes must have passed, and still no one spoke. Then, Daryl took something out of his pocket, his fingers unconsciously playing with it. Aaron glanced sideways and saw that it was a keychain with the name Dennis on it. Daryl felt Aaron's attention on him, and held the keychain in his palm.

"It was her brother's name," Daryl said, breaking the long silence.

"I didn't know she had a brother," Aaron said.

Daryl nodded. "They were twins. She said I reminded her of him." He paused and huffed. "He must have been a dick."

Aaron could hear the guilt in Daryl's voice. He was blaming himself for what happened to Denise. It was a terrible position to be in, and Aaron feared what Daryl might do. This was the reason they needed to talk. Daryl started the conversation, which was a good sign. Aaron would listen and ask few questions. He wanted Daryl to be in control of the situation.

Silence fell between them, but it didn't last as long as the first round. Daryl spoke once more. "We were heading back to the truck. We were almost there. Denise stopped because … she saw a cooler in a car. A goddamn cooler." Daryl picked up a twig and started making lines in the dirt, fidgeting as he remembered what happened. "I should have dragged her ass away, but I didn't. I let her do what she needed to do.

"What was in the cooler?" Aaron wondered.

Daryl threw the twig into the nearby hedges. "A fucking six pack of pop." Daryl stopped, his head lowering until it seemed his chin touched his chest. After a little while, he regained his composure and finished. "Next thing I know, there's an arrow sticking through her head. Not just any arrow, though. It was one of mine. Goddamn bastard shot her with my crossbow."

"The man from the burnt out forest," Aaron confirmed.

Daryl's head bobbed in agreement. "It was him alright. He had Eugene, said he'd shoot him if we didn't do as he said. He wanted us to take him to Alexandria. And then … man, I don't know what happened. All hell broke loose, Rosita and I grabbed our guns, and it turned into a shootout. Abraham was hiding in the bushes, Eugene got shot, Denise was dead, and that fucking asshole and his men took off running. I was going after him, but Rosita stopped me." Daryl shook his head. "I should have killed him back in that forest."

"You only did what you thought was right," Aaron reassured him. "It's not your fault."

"It is my fault," Daryl retaliated. "I knew that guy was bad news. Deep down I knew it. And now . . ." Daryl stood from the ground and Aaron followed. They both looked down at Denise's grave. The silence was thick between them. Aaron didn't know what to say, and Daryl couldn't speak of it anymore.

Aaron couldn't stand it, the awkwardness, the quiet. It wasn't usual between them. He felt even guiltier for not being there when Daryl returned. It was selfish of him to run off to see Hilltop. "I'm really and truly sorry, Daryl. I should have been here, and when you needed me most I wasn't there for you. I won't blame you if you–"

"Stop," Daryl interrupted. "Quit talking. This isn't about you."

"I know it isn't, but I want you to know I'd never do anything to hurt you."

Daryl glanced to his side, looking at Aaron from the corner of his eyes. "But you did hurt me. You took off and left town when you knew you shouldn't. It's fucking dangerous out there. What if something happened to you?"

"I can take care of myself," Aaron said, his belligerence aroused by Daryl's insistence.

"That's what Denise thought too, and you see where that got her."

"Why are you being like this? I apologized and admitted I was wrong, but you keep pushing me away."

"Because you're not giving me any fucking space," Daryl said angrily.

"And you want to confine me," Aaron fired back.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh? I don't need this shit." Daryl pushed past him and left the graveyard.

Aaron threw his head back and looked at the stars above. "Goddamn it!" he shouted with frustration.

* * *

Of course, Daryl didn't come home. Perhaps he went to Morgan's house, or maybe he just walked around for the rest of the night. Aaron tried talking to him. He tried to get Daryl to open up to him, but with every little piece he chipped away came distrust.

Aaron laid awake in bed tossing and turning. He felt guilty and angry, the emotions played off of each other. It took a while, but he finally fell asleep, and a part of him wished he wouldn't wake up. He hated it when they fought. He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was.

He was dreaming, of course. Daryl was with him. He could feel the heat of his body lying next to him. It was warm and comforting. He felt safe with Daryl contoured against him. This was how it was supposed to be, no complications, no arguments, just him and Daryl finding each other again. His hardness pushed against Aaron backside, eager, ready to fulfill a promise in the dark.

"Turn over," Daryl whispered, and it all seemed too real, but when Aaron awoke from his dream, he found it wasn't a dream at all.

"Daryl?" Aaron spoke with a groggy voice.

"Don't talk," Daryl said softly.

Aaron rolled onto his back, and Daryl got to his knees. He pulled the covers back and stripped Aaron of his underwear. Aaron saw that Daryl was already fully naked. He didn't give Aaron any time to realize what was happening or to fully wake up, and Daryl was on top, lifting his legs to wrap around him. Aaron was instantly filled and stretched as Daryl let a quiet breathy moan escape. Daryl's mouth devoured his neck, and Aaron arched into his lover's embrace. Daryl made love to him slow, making sure every sensation was savored and remembered, as though this would be their last. They had made love many times, but this time was different, like a desperate attempt to reconnect with life as it was before all the recent events. Not once did Daryl quicken his pace. He would bring Aaron around slowly and find his own release.

Daryl dared to watch Aaron as he made love to him. Eyes shut, lips parted in silent ecstasy, he didn't want Aaron to look at him. He just wanted him to feel every inch sliding with great care in making him come. He loved Aaron so much that it hurt. It was more painful than any wound he'd acquired, more than any wrong done to him. How could love be painful? Daryl wondered as his hips pumped, and Aaron's arms surrounded him. His fingers dug into Daryl's backside, pulling him in, needing him deeper. They writhed together in perfect rhythm, flesh upon flesh, slick and warm, the scent of sex inebriating their senses. It was exhilarating to be within Aaron's willing body, but to stimulate him without hurry was euphoric, and he could see Aaron was experiencing the same thing. Daryl was ready at any moment, but he would try to wait for Aaron. He was close, though. Daryl could tell by the way he was being squeezed. It made his member pulse and he pushed forward, bringing Aaron's hips off the bed. It took everything within his power not to start pumping hard and fast, and make Aaron scream his name like he so often did. Daryl continued his unhurried rhythm, feeling himself building and pulsing, loins tightening on the verge of release. And that's when he felt Aaron shutter beneath him, and his cock pulsated as he came between their bodies. Daryl spilled, finally, liquid warmth purling within. It felt as though it would never end, the best fucking Daryl had ever had in his lifetime. Aaron's body was still rigid, riding out every wave of rhapsody.

Aaron had never felt anything so amazing, and so deliriously confusing. He awoke from a dream into reality without the scene changing. Daryl took him to the brink time and time again until he could take no more of the torturous bliss. His body finally surrendered, and he dove over the edge, suddenly weightless in Daryl's embrace. It was as if his soul separated from his physical form. Every nerve, every muscle was alive with electrical currents that kept him in this euphoric state, one he wished would never end. Slowly he became earthbound once again. Daryl had collapsed on top of him, his face buried in Aaron's neck. When their breathing regulated, Daryl rolled from Aaron, coming to rest at his side. Aaron turned onto his side to face him. Daryl's eyes were closed.

"Daryl," Aaron started to say, but Daryl stopped him.

"No. Don't speak," he said.

Aaron watched him a moment, and then he laid his head on Daryl's chest. Exhaustion eventually took him, and Aaron drifted off into a deep slumber, glad to have his lover by his side again. They could talk about it in the morning, all the things that had gone wrong, and Aaron would help Daryl deal with this latest devastation. For now, they were together and sated. Daryl wouldn't have come back if he wasn't willing to make up.

Daryl was still awake with no intention of falling asleep. He wasn't staying. He couldn't, not with everything on his mind. He slid out of bed, careful not to wake Aaron. He sat on the edge for a while, stealing glances of his sleeping lover. He felt bad for their earlier argument, especially after accusing Aaron of sleeping with Paul. He knew that wasn't the case. Deep down he knew Aaron wouldn't cheat on him, and tonight proved that. He had been angry and hurt, and to accuse Aaron of this made him feel temporarily justified. Now, he just felt like a jealous asshole.

He stood from the bed and dressed, although a part of him didn't want to go. His conscience told him to climb back beneath the sheets and curl into his lover for the rest of the night, but he couldn't. There was important business to tend to, a promise he made to himself that he had every intention of keeping. Maybe if he'd made a different choice, he could have stayed in bed with Aaron. Daryl had to live with the decision he made, but it didn't mean he couldn't go and avenge his friend's death.

Daryl went to the bedroom window and gazed out to the street below. His mind took him back to where it began, in the burnt forest with a man who Daryl thought he could help. It ended with that same man killing someone dear to him. This was something Daryl couldn't let go of. Ever since he made the decision to try and help the stranger, he felt like he had made a bad decision, and he had. He knew he should have killed him. He could have. He had the opportunity, but he let it go and took a chance. Now Denise was dead, shot by an arrow through the head, Daryl's own arrow no less. Just thinking about it made him nauseous, and his ire began to rise. The feeling of the glorious moment he had just spent with Aaron was being pushed aside for the need of revenge.

He saw very clearly which direction the man named Dwight went. Daryl was prepared to go straight after him, find him and kill him, but Rosita stopped him. Eugene was hurt, they had to go. Daryl and Abraham carried Eugene back to the truck, but Daryl wouldn't leave without going back for Denise. He wouldn't leave her for walkers to find. She deserved a grave. He had been responsible for her on this run, and he was still responsible for her until she was put to rest. Now that Daryl had done that, it was time to hunt down her killer.

He turned back to the bed and watched Aaron's sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, even wore a slight smile. Probably thought everything was alright again, too. Daryl had come tonight for nothing more than physical completion, even though they had a fight earlier. But what he experienced was something he never knew existed, and something he knew he would only ever find with Aaron. Maybe he should just stay, Daryl thought to himself once more. They would work everything out in the morning. All would be settled between them. That's not what needed settling, though. Daryl's anger and hate was pushing him forward to do what it was he set out to do before becoming distracted by physical need. He had to do this, and he had to do it alone. Aaron couldn't be a part of it, and he would want to be if he knew what Daryl was up to. Either that or he would try to talk Daryl out of it. No, this needed to be dealt with right now, while Dwight wouldn't be expecting it. The man had to die for what he did, and Daryl had to be his executioner.

Knowing he was deceiving Aaron, he looked down at him with sadness on his heart. If this was to be their last night together, at least it had been good. Hopefully, Aaron would know that his actions were a form of an apology he couldn't muster.

Aaron laid on his stomach, one arm tucked under his pillow. The sheet had slipped down, exposing the top of his backside. Daryl's heartbeat accelerated as he looked over his lover. He really did love Aaron, and he wished sometimes that he could be more outspoken about it. He hoped Aaron knew how much he loved him, even though he hardly ever said it. Lately, he didn't even show it much. Why was Aaron with him? Why didn't he ever get tired of Daryl's hardened emotions? He should have been a better partner, Daryl told himself. When did Aaron ever accuse him of sleeping with another man? Never, because Aaron was so much better at reading him. He started to feel like a real shit, and what he was about to do proved it. But . . .

"I'm sorry," Daryl whispered, sorry he had to leave, sorry he behaved like an asshole, sorry for any grief he might cause Aaron. He was sorry for a lot of things, but the one thing he wouldn't apologize for was hunting down Dwight and finishing the job.

Aaron didn't stir, thank goodness, and Daryl slipped out of the bedroom, down the stairs and to the front door. There was only about an hour left before the sun would climb into the sky. That was just enough time to gather a pack and his weapons. He left his guilt behind, and silently walked his bike out of the garage. Now began the hunt.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38 Last Chance for Redemption**

Aaron slowly woke up with a long stretch and a smile. "Daryl, I'm so glad you–" He cut his words short when he opened his eyes and found the opposite side of the bed empty and cold. He immediately sat up, the smile now gone, and searched the bedroom. Daryl's clothes were gone. He was gone. "I should have known better," Aaron said to himself. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge a moment. He rubbed his eyes and then his face, noticing that he needed to shave. Did last night even happen or was the whole thing just a dream? Did Daryl actually come to their bed in the middle of the night, and make love to him in the most complete and satisfying way they had ever experienced?

He stood and searched for his clothes, finding himself naked, not how he usually slept. More proof that last night was real. Aaron wondered if Daryl had gone back to Morgan's house. They needed to talk. He hated it when they fought. Last night, though, was something that never happened before. Why, after their huge blow up, did Daryl come to him and sleep with him? The situation was confusing enough as it was, and when Daryl stormed away like he did, the last thing Aaron ever expected was to be awoken by Daryl and made love to in silence. Now he was alone again, and needing an explanation. Did Daryl accept his apology? Was he feeling guilty for accusing Aaron of sleeping with Paul? Maybe the late night visit was Daryl's way of apologizing.

Aaron went to the dresser to grab a pair of pants, and noticed the keychain laying there. Daryl had it yesterday at Denise's grave, a small treasure that he knew Daryl would keep as a memento to her. Aaron knew of a few other small items like this, but Daryl always kept them with him. For some reason, he had left this one behind. There was one thing he knew for sure Daryl wouldn't leave without, and he sprinted, shirtless, down the stairs and to the door that led to the garage. He thrust the door open and his heart sank. Daryl's bike was gone. Their garage was the only place he would keep it since he got it back, and it wasn't there now.

"Shit," he complained to himself, and went to the laundry room to grab a shirt and his shoes. Maybe, if he hurried . . . Suddenly he heard Daryl's bike roar in the distance. Aaron flew out the front door and down the steps. He ran down the street and turned the corner, just catching a glimpse of Daryl heading out the gate. He called out to him, but of course, Daryl was too far to hear. He could see Glenn, Rosita and Michonne standing at the gate, as they watched Daryl leave. They were yelling at him to stop. Aaron ran to them to see what happened.

Glenn saw Aaron approaching. "Do you know what happened? Do you know where he's going?"

Aaron started to speak, but Rosita interrupted him. "He's going after Dwight."

"How do you know?" Aaron asked.

"Because I stopped him the other day. He was going to follow him after they bailed from the fight. I told him he needed to help us get Eugene home," she told him.

Aaron paced back and forth a couple times. "This is my fault. I wasn't here when he got back the other day, and then we had a huge fight and … I've got to go after him."

"You don't know exactly where he's going," Michonne said. "How are you going to find him?"

Rosita stepped forward. "I know where he went." She looked at Aaron with sympathy. "I'll find him and bring him home."

"I'm going with you," Aaron demanded. "Just give me a minute to get my weapons and–"

"Michonne and I will go with Rosita," Glenn said.

Aaron shook his head, his brows creased. "No, I'm going. It's Daryl. I have to go."

Glenn stepped up to Aaron and grasped his shoulder. "I know how you feel, but I'd feel better if you stayed here with Maggie. Tell her where I went and that I'll be back soon. She'll worry when she finds out I've gone out, but she trusts you, and she's comfortable with you."

"Please, Glenn. I need to find him. I have to–" Aaron pleaded.

Glenn stopped him by looking him straight in the eyes with a promise. "I'll find him, Aaron."

Aaron was reluctant to agree to stay, but Glenn was right that someone needed to stay with Maggie. He looked past Glenn to the open gate and the road that led somewhere to Daryl, and slowly nodded. "Alright. I'll stay."

Glenn smiled sympathetically and patted Aaron's shoulder. Michonne nodded and Rosita gently touched his arm. They jumped in one of the cars and headed out to find Daryl. He couldn't have gotten too far. He had just left. Aaron trusted that Glenn would find him, and Rosita knew where to look. Hopefully they would all be back soon.

Sasha came down from the wall to join Abraham. They had watched the whole scene play out, and they felt bad for Aaron. Abraham approached him first. "If Rosita says she knows where Daryl went, you can be assured they'll find him."

"If it will make you feel any better," Sasha suggested, "you can pull gate duty for me. I've been out here since midnight. Abraham was taking over, but I'm sure he won't mind starting a little later." She smiled at Abraham and he smiled back. Aaron couldn't remember ever seeing either one of them look so content since he first met them. They really were in love, it seemed.

"First, I need to go tell Maggie that Glenn left, but I can watch the gate when I get back," Aaron agreed. It definitely would help him if he could keep an eye on the road while he waited for the others to return with Daryl. He wanted to be the first person Daryl saw when he came through that gate, unlike the other day. He thought it might help to put things right between them again.

Aaron turned to head over to Maggie and Glenn's house, and he saw Rick, Morgan and Tobin coming towards the gate. Rick didn't know what had happened. He would need to let him know who all was outside the town, and Rick probably wouldn't be too happy about it either. He didn't like people leaving without telling him first, but this was kind of an emergency.

Rick saw the open gate and the missing van. His brow furrowed as he tilted his head to the gate. "What's going on here?"

"Daryl's gone," Aaron told him. No use holding anything back. Straight and to the point was how Rick liked information. Aaron had found that out the hard way when they first met and Rick knocked him out.

"What do you mean he's gone? Gone where?"

"He went after Dwight. Glenn, Rosita and Michonne went after him. He just left not long ago. They shouldn't be far behind."

Rick's hands were on his hips and he looked to the ground as he shook his head. "What the hell is happening around here? First Carol and now this. We can't just have people leaving whenever they feel like it," Rick complained with frustration.

"Carol?" Aaron asked, unaware she was gone. "Where did she go?"

Tobin lifted a piece of paper and waved it in the air. "I got up this morning and found this on the nightstand. I was with her last night. She must have left after I fell asleep, but I have no idea when or how long ago that was."

Aaron took Carol's note and skimmed over it quickly. It said something about caring about everyone so much that she had to go, and she didn't want anyone looking for her. As he read the letter, Rick and Morgan discussed going after her, and tried to figure out which way she might have gone. Morgan was an excellent tracker, and he used that to convince Rick to let him go after Carol.

"Didn't you see her leave?" Rick asked Sasha, but she hadn't seen anything.

Tobin scanned the area, and noticed a car missing from the rest parked outside the gate. Sasha figured Carol must have slipped away around midnight when the gate guards changed shifts. Meanwhile, Rick and Morgan agreed to go together and search for her. Aaron felt bad because he meant to stop by and check on Carol yesterday, but he went to help Maggie instead. He never did go back to Carol's house. If he had, maybe he would have noticed something wrong. Maybe he could have talked with her. Then again, Carol was like a chameleon. She was a master of disguise, and that included her emotions. One minute, she's baking cookies and casseroles, and the next she's gone without hardly a trace.

Rick quickly came up with jobs for everyone to do since they were missing some key people. "Aaron, I need you to find Gabriel. Tell him what's happened here, and make sure he's got enough people pulling guard duty around the perimeter. Sasha, I know you just finished your shift, but if you could stay on a little longer, I'd appreciate that. Abraham, you're with her. Morgan and I will come back as soon as we can, so the rest of you hold the fort down."

"We got this," Sasha said.

"Just bring our people back, Rick," Abraham added.

Rick nodded. "I'll sure try."

* * *

Aaron found Gabriel and relayed Rick's message. All posts were covered. Alexandria was in good shape. Now he needed to tell Maggie about Glenn. She was at her house, and he was glad to see her taking it easy. She looked a little more energetic than she did in the past few days, but she still wasn't all the way back to her old self. Aaron had never known anyone pregnant before, and he didn't have anything to go by, but he couldn't deny that he was worried about her. It was still so early in the pregnancy, and he was sure that women didn't feel like this until their late trimester. This made him wonder exactly what happened to her when Maggie and Carol were kidnapped by the Saviors.

"Hey Aaron," she smiled as she invited him in.

"Hi," he said tersely, unable to hid the anguish from his countenance.

"What is it?" she asked as soon as she saw him.

"It's Glenn," he started to tell her, and her face fell with fear. Aaron shook his head and waved her off. "It's Daryl too. And … Carol." He was bad at giving bad news to people he really cared about.

"Aaron," Maggie said with a complaining tone in her voice.

"Daryl left … alone … first thing this morning. Glenn, Rosita and Michonne have gone to bring him back. They left not long after him, so they should catch up quickly. And as for Carol, Tobin found a note. She left sometime during the night."

Maggie looked dumbfounded. She shook her head in confusion. "W-what the hell?"

"That was my same reaction. I don't know why Carol left, but Rick and Morgan went out to find her. She's not been herself lately. I'm afraid for her," Aaron explained.

"And you said Glenn is out there too?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. He sent me to tell you not to worry. He shouldn't be long. Rosita knows where Daryl went."

Maggie plopped down on the couch. "This is not the time for everyone to start splitting up."

Aaron sensed her anxiety, and he didn't want her to be upset. "Everything is going to be fine, and once Daryl and Carol are back–"

"I almost forgot about Daryl and you. Shit, did something happen with you two yesterday? Is that why he left? I thought I was giving you some good advice. I hope I didn't help screw anything up," she said worriedly.

Aaron smiled and sat down next to her. "I tried to talk to Daryl, but it ended in another argument and he stormed off. He stayed at Morgan's house last night."

"I'm sorry, Aaron," she said with sympathy, her eyes softening as she looked him over. "Are you alright?"

"I'm so confused," he admitted. "We had a terrible fight and he left. And then last night, he . . ." Aaron paused, not sure he should share something so private, but he trusted Maggie.

"It's okay if you need to talk about it. I don't mind," she told him.

"Last night, while I was sleeping, he came home … to our bed … and he … we . . ." Aaron smiled and blushed as he thought about it. "It was incredible. And then I woke up to an empty bed, the sound of Daryl's bike revving as he left. I don't know if he's still mad at me or if last night was make up sex."

"What did he say to you?" she asked.

Aaron shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing. He wouldn't let me speak, and he didn't say a word. He just … came home and we … you know … and he was gone again. Nothing like that has ever happened before. I just don't know what to make of it."

"Why aren't you out looking for him too," Maggie wondered.

"I told Glenn I wanted to go after Daryl, but he insisted I stay here with you. But, they literally are right behind him, and Rosita knows where he's going."

"And where is that?" she asked as she slid to the edge of the couch.

Aaron didn't want to keep worrying her, but she had to know. "I think Daryl's gone after Dwight, the man who killed Denise."

"Damn it," Maggie whispered to herself, as she closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. She gave a deep sigh, and when she opened her eyes, she managed to put on a smile. "Well," she said, and didn't know what else to say that wouldn't come out as a curse to her noble husband.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. Glenn is good at talking sense into people. They'll find Daryl and bring him back. And then . . ." Aaron's words faded because he had no solution for what was happening with him and Daryl.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out with Daryl, but I'm sure, after he takes some time to sort it all out, he'll realize his mistake."

Aaron took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know, Maggie. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and we've been through a lot of shit. I didn't tell you the whole story. I was kind of … embarrassed to, but … well … Daryl wasn't just mad at me for leaving while he was away. It was the fact that I went with Jesus, and I think Daryl is jealous of our friendship." Aaron used Paul's nickname when he was speaking of him with other members of the group. That was what everyone else called him. "Daryl accused me of sleeping with him, you know, because I stayed at Hilltop overnight. But, of course, I did no such thing. I love Daryl and I'd never do that to him."

"Then that's what you both need to discuss when he gets back. And, just for the record, I think Daryl knows you'd never do that to him either, otherwise he wouldn't have come home," she smiled and patted Aaron's knee.

Talking about it made Aaron feel better, but he knew Daryl was who he really needed to clear the air with. "Thanks Maggie. You always manage to shine a light on any situation."

The conversation turned to uneventful things that were happening around town, gardens and livestock, food rations and other important daily routines and chores. Somehow, they took it around and started talking about Hilltop. Now that Aaron had seen it, he knew what Maggie was talking about.

"What do you think of Gregory?" Aaron asked during a lull in the conversation.

"He's a prick, ego hungry, immature, and he's a scared little rat," she answered without stopping to think about it.

Aaron huffed with a laugh. "Now tell me what you really think."

"You met him, didn't you? How can that man be leader of such a well-organized community, and all he cares about is what his personal cook will be preparing for dinner?"

"That's because he's not actually running it. If you ask me, Jesus is more in charge than Gregory. He just does it in a way that makes Gregory think he's boss."

Maggie squint her eyes as she considered this. "What do you think about Jesus?" she asked, throwing a curve ball question at him.

"He's smart. He knows how not to get caught. He's an excellent fighter and definitely someone you'd want in your corner," Aaron explained. There was more, but he didn't want to sound to enthusiastic.

"But do you trust him?" Maggie asked curiously.

"I do trust him," Aaron admitted. "Don't you?"

"I don't know yet. Sometimes I feel like he's holding back information, as though he only tells us what we need to know, just enough to convince us," she answered honestly.

"He hasn't done anything to make us not trust him," Aaron argued.

"Hilltop needs us for protection. Without Alexandria, they might not be sitting in their community right now. I don't know. I just find it odd that roughly twenty people were able to bully a place as big as Hilltop, to the point that they are frightened."

"You know for yourself that they don't have any fire power. They have no way to fight. That's where we came in," Aaron justified. "And don't forget, Jesus said they'd seen the Saviors group and that's about how many people we found in their bunker."

"That can't be all of them," Maggie said unconvinced.

"No, but I think we put a big dent in their numbers. The rest will either leave Hilltop and us alone, or they'll find themselves face to face with a well-armed force to deal with." Aaron was confident with his statement, and not just because he was trying to make Maggie feel better about the situation.

"Rick seems to feel the same way," Maggie told him, but there was doubt in her words.

"Rick's been doing this a long time. He knows what's going on," Aaron said. "Now, we just need to reel our people back in and regroup."

"Yeah," Maggie whispered, her thoughts far off.

"They're going to be fine. Glenn, Daryl and the rest … they'll be home soon. They have to be." Aaron stood from the couch. Maggie followed him.

"In the meantime, we need to keep preparing Alexandria for whatever happens. We need to be ready," Maggie stated. She reached up and started to put her long hair into a ponytail, but she stopped. "If you see Enid, will you send her here? I've got something I need her to help me with."

"Sure Maggie." He hugged her and kissed her forehead before heading out. Aaron thought he better finish up what Glenn and Maggie were doing earlier, hiding cachets of weapons around town. He went off to find Caleb to help him with this. Aaron didn't want Maggie worrying any more than she already was. Besides, she needed to take it easy right now.

* * *

Daryl had tunnel vision out in the woods where he was tracking Dwight. He had some excellent clues that were leading him to the man he considered his bane. In his mind, he kept berating himself for not killing Dwight when he first encountered him. Denise would still be alive. That much he knew for sure because it was Daryl's stolen crossbow that killed her.

Everything was a mess right now, especially his relationship with Aaron. He fucked that up pretty bad when he accused Aaron of cheating on him with Jesus. Daryl got so angry every time Aaron spoke of him or called him by his real name as though they were best friends or something. He felt threatened by Jesus, but in a different way. Jesus was Daryl's equal. He could fight, he could track, and Daryl had seen evidence of his quiet pining for Aaron. That part alone made Daryl stew in his own hate for the man. It wasn't as dominant as his hate for Dwight, though, and that was where his focus was right now. He'd deal with Jesus later, but first he needed to put things right again, and he couldn't do that until Dwight was dead.

Lost in thought, Daryl almost didn't hear the sound of footsteps. He came to and saw movement through the thick leaves, raised his bow and fired. The arrow his a tree just as he saw Rosita come out of the foliage. Glenn and Michonne stepped out behind her.

"What the fuck are you all doing here," Daryl growled.

"We're looking for you," Rosita said with anger as she looked at the arrow that had only missed her head by inches. "What the fuck are you doing shooting at me?" she replied, her Hispanic accent thick with anger.

"Daryl, you need to come home," Glenn told him.

"Naw man, I got something I need to take care of first."

"You're going to get yourself killed out here. This is not the way to go about it," Glenn argued.

"It's the only way," Daryl said, and he started walking again.

Michonne and Rosita started to go after him, but Glenn held his hand out to them, making them stop. Then he went after Daryl, and stopped him so they could talk in private. Daryl was not the least bit happy about it. "Go back to town," he told Glenn.

"Not without you," Glenn countered. "Listen, I know how you feel. You're pissed. You're seeing red, and all you want to do is hunt down and kill the guy that screwed with you."

"Then you understand why I gotta get going. I appreciate your concern, but I need to finish this."

Glenn jumped in front of Daryl so he wouldn't leave. "And what about Alexandria? What about Rick or Carol or Maggie? What about Aaron?" He put emphasis on Aaron's name, and Daryl narrowed his eyes. Glenn knew he touched on something. "So, you're gonna risk your life without giving a shit about the people who love you? What do you think that would do to Aaron if you didn't come back?"

"You don't know nothing about it," Daryl said angrily.

"I know that he cares about you … a lot, and he's back there right now, worried as hell."

Daryl looked past Glenn to Michonne and Rosita. "Oh, he's worried alright. So worried he didn't come with you."

"I wouldn't let him come," Glenn corrected him. "He was going to go by himself. He was ready to leave just as soon as he heard you tear out of the gate, but I stopped him because having one of you out here is enough. Now, I don't know what all went down between the two of you, but Aaron is beside himself. He feels bad, really bad. He's blaming himself for the reason you left, and all he wants is to make it right again. Imagine if you don't come home and what that will do to him. If you don't come back for any other reason, come back for Aaron." Glenn could see that Daryl was actually considering his words. He was sure he had Daryl convinced to give up on this hunt and come home. Daryl's facial features softened for just a moment, and then they hardened up again.

Daryl wanted to listen to Glenn. He knew going back and working it out with Aaron was the best thing to do, but if he let Dwight go, how was he protecting anyone? Denise was dead, and nothing he did would change that, but what if this asshole decided to come back? What if he tried to get Aaron or anyone else in Alexandria? If anything else happened to Daryl's people, it would be on himself for not stopping Dwight and putting an end to the threat. He couldn't let it happen again. "I can't. I gotta go," he told Glenn and he went back to tracking his enemy.

Glenn watched him leave. He called out to Daryl a couple times, but he was gone. Michonne and Rosita came up next to Glenn. "Damn it," he muttered.

The three stood and watched Daryl head off into the woods determined to find Dwight. Glenn shook his head in frustration and sighed deep. "We better get home."

"So that's it? You're just going to let him go off by himself?" Rosita said with anger.

"I tried to stop him," Glenn defended himself. "He wouldn't listen."

"By being out here, we're leaving Alexandria vulnerable," Michonne said, being the voice of reason.

Rosita looked at them in disbelief and scowled at them. "Go home then, but I'm staying with Daryl." She pushed Glenn out of her way and trotted off to catch up.

Glenn and Michonne watched her. "This is not good," Glenn said. "Nothing good can come of this."

"We could follow him," Michonne suggested.

"No, I can't. I need to be there for Maggie and the baby. That's my first priority," Glenn told her. They turned and started back the way they came. "I thought Daryl would realize that too."

"What?" Michonne asked.

"I thought Aaron was more important to him than this. I tried to get him to see that, but he still left," Glenn said disappointedly.

"I think he's doing this for Aaron … for all of us."

"He's doing it for himself," Glenn said quietly. "And that's never a good thing."

* * *

Aaron was pulling gate duty when Rick returned … alone. He opened the gate and let Rick in. "Where's Morgan and Carol?"

"We found her trail. Looks like she came across some of the Saviors. They were all dead. We think Carol is alive but injured. Morgan talked me into coming back. He's going after Carol. He'll bring her home," Rick told him.

"And you left him out there alone?" Aaron asked, confused by Rick's decision.

"Morgan is a better tracker than me. He was out there a long time on his own. He'll be alright. I'm confident he's going to bring Carol back. And besides, with the others gone, we need the firepower." Rick stopped and looked around. "Speaking of which, is Michonne back yet?"

Aaron shook his head. "No. There's been no sign of them. I thought for sure they'd be back by now. Daryl couldn't have gotten far."

Rick palmed the back of his neck, as he thought of his next move. "Alright, we'll give them a couple more hours, and if they aren't back, Abraham and I will go looking for them."

Aaron noticed Rick didn't include him in the search. He let Glenn talk him out of it, but he wouldn't let Rick make decisions for him. Hopefully, Daryl and the others would be back before time was up, and he wouldn't have to argue with Rick. "Well, just in case, I'm going to go ahead and gather up some weapons, and have a car ready."

"Good," Rick said, grasping Aaron's shoulder. "I'm sure everything is fine, and they'll be home soon."

"I hope so," Aaron said, forcing a smile. He left Rick and went towards the armory, making a mental list of what they would need. When he got there, Olivia helped him get weapons and ammo together. He had just packed them into a duffle bag when he heard someone yelling outside. Aaron went to a window and looked out. Enid was running up the street in distress. Aaron dropped the bag and ran out to meet her.

"Help, Aaron. Please help her," Enid called, tears streaming down her face.

Aaron caught her by the shoulders and held her. "What's wrong?"

"It's Maggie. She's in severe pain. I don't know what it is, but I think it's the baby."

"Shit … okay … uh … alright. Where is she right now?" he asked.

"She's at her house. I don't know what happened," Enid cried.

"Okay. I need you to get Rick and tell him to go there. Tell him I'm with her. And then … then . . ." he stammered, about to tell Enid to get Denise. It was an instant reaction, one he didn't think twice about in his frazzled state. But now he realized that they didn't have a doctor, and Maggie was in serious trouble. "Just go get Rick, alright? Can you do that?"

"Yes," she agreed and she took off running to find their leader.

Aaron ran up the street until he reached Glenn and Maggie's house. He burst through the door, already calling out to her. He found her on the dining room floor, holding onto one of the chairs with one arm, the other holding her mid-section. She looked up at him, tears falling over her cheeks.

"Help me, Aaron," she asked with desperation.

Aaron went to her and knelt down next to her. "My God, what happened, Maggie? What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Sharpe pains. Hurts bad." She couldn't speak in complete sentences. She doubled over and started yelling in pain. Aaron took her in his arms and held her, watching the door as he waited for help to arrive. Soon, Rick came in and went straight to them. Enid stood in the threshold and watched from a distance. It wasn't long and Sasha and Abraham came inside too. No one had a clue what was wrong, but everyone suspected something wrong with the baby.

Working together, they finally got Maggie to the couch, and covered her with blankets. She was running a fever and was shaking by this time. Rick gathered Aaron, Sasha and Abe in the kitchen.

"Hilltop has a doctor. Maggie's already met with him. He's the one who performed the sonogram so he knows her condition. I don't see any other choice here. We've got to get her to Hilltop," Rick said and everyone agreed.

"I can get a car and bring it here. We'll lay her in the backseat," Aaron suggested.

"I think we should take the RV. We need to make her as comfortable as possible and there's a bed in there," Rick said.

"I'm on it," Abraham said, and he left to bring the camper up to the house. The rest stayed with Maggie and kept her calm.

It didn't take long. Abe was back with the RV. Rick, Aaron and Sasha carefully carried Maggie out of the house and into the camper. They laid her on the bed in the back, covered her, and gave her pillows to keep her comfortable. Rick jumped in the driver's seat and drove to Olivia's house where he would load up on supplies and weapons. Once they got there, most of the townspeople were following, all of them worried for Maggie and wondering what was happening.

Rick made the announcement. "Maggie is sick. We're not sure what's wrong, so we are taking her to Hilltop."

"Who's we?" Olivia asked.

Rick looked around at the faces in the crowd. "It's just going to be me and Abraham."

There was instant chatter in the crowd, worried people wondering who would be left to patrol the city, especially with a handful of people already gone. Rick was about to calm their fears, but Sasha came up to him first. "If Abraham is going, so am I."

Rick looked at Abraham to see if he would disagree, but he shrugged his shoulders. "Package deal, man." Abe and Sasha climbed into the RV.

Eugene was following on Sasha's heels, as though trying to sneak on board, but Rick stopped him. Eugene held up a map in his defense. "You don't have Jesus telling you how to get there this time. You're going to need someone to navigate the quickest route. I've got a lot of experience in that department." When Rick didn't seem convinced, Eugene put on his most pleading face. "Besides, I'm part of that package deal that Abraham spoke of." Rick bowed his head, and Eugene took it as a sign of defeat, climbing into the camper.

Carl came out of the garage carrying the last of the supplies. Since he lost his eye, he didn't participate much outside of Alexandria. He had lost a lot of his confidence. He stopped next to Rick as though considering what to do.

"You going too?" Rick asked.

Carl glanced back at the townspeople and then to his father. "Yeah, I feel like I need to this time."

Rick nodded and patted his son on the shoulder. Carl gave a brief smile and took the supply box inside.

Aaron came out of Olivia's house with the bag of weapons he put together earlier. Rick reached out for the bag, and Aaron handed it to him, but as Aaron started to step into the RV, Rick took hold of his arm. "You're not going," Rick told him.

"What? Why?" Aaron said, disappointed.

"Because I need people here. Just about all of our main people are gone. You're all that's left. I need you in Alexandria," Rick explained, hoping Aaron understood.

"Look, I was already told to stay behind when Glenn and the others went after Daryl. I should have gone after him too, and I regret letting Glenn talk me out of it. But I'll be damned if I'm not going this time," Aaron said pugnaciously.

"Aaron, I–"

"No," Aaron interrupted. "The only way you're going to stop me is to punch me in the face and knock me unconscious again," Aaron said, referring to the first time he met Rick and their group.

Rick narrowed his eyes as a last resort to try and antagonize Aaron, but he failed to do so. "Yeah, I might do it, but it didn't work to keep you away the last time," Rick joked. He let go of Aaron's arm. "Alright, let's go."

As Aaron got onto the RV, he saw Father Gabriel approach Rick. Aaron thought he was going to try and get a seat to Hilltop too, but he was reassuring Rick that everything was taken care of, and that there were guards at every post. Aaron hoped that would ease Rick's mind.

* * *

Daryl awoke to darkness with just shards of light penetrating something covering his head. He was in severe pain, and the smell of blood was strong. His hands and ankles were tied, mouth gagged, and he was sitting on the floor. The sound of muffled voices barely reached his ears, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what happened and how he ended up like this.

Glenn, Michonne and Rosita caught up to him, and tried to get him to come back to Alexandria. In the end, he refused and marched off into the woods. Moments later, Rosita was at his side, and ready to help him complete his mission of finding and killing the man who murdered Denise. Daryl started tracking again. It took him a while, but he picked up the trail once more, only now it seemed there might be more people. Something didn't feel right about the whole Saviors thing, and he started to wonder if their community was larger than Jesus originally led him to believe. Jesus said he'd spotted a group of about twenty, but now Daryl thought that might be just one piece of the community. What they were dealing with might very well be hundreds of members, not just a small group like the ones they killed at the satellite compound. Daryl quietly worried that they might be outnumbered. If that was true, maybe Glenn was right and he needed to go back to Alexandria, warn Rick of the impending danger, and start to reinforce their army.

"Daryl, look!" Rosita warned, pointing to a few threads snagged on a branch.

Daryl looked at it closely. "Glenn," he said tersely.

"Shit," Rosita complained. Their hunt for a killer was now a rescue mission. "Must have been caught while they were heading back."

"Alright, let's do this," Daryl said, and they followed the trail.

After a little while, Daryl and Rosita stopped when they heard voices in the distance. They took immediate cover and scoped the area. There was movement not far, but they couldn't see anything specific. They moved closer, using the trees and the underbrush as cover. Sure enough, there was Glenn and Michonne, tied up and their mouths gagged. Daryl needed Glenn to see him so he would know they were there. Glenn could cause some kind of distraction, leaving Daryl and Rosita free to silently take out any Saviors. Daryl hoped Dwight was one of them so he could have the pleasure of killing him.

Daryl made eye contact with Glenn, but something was wrong. Glenn looked panicked, and he was trying to yell through his gag. And then Daryl and Rosita heard guns being cocked, and the feel of cold metal being shoved into their backs. Daryl's mind instantly started trying to figure a way out of their predicament when he heard a familiar voice in his ear.

"Hi Daryl," Dwight said.

Daryl tensed and readied himself for a fight, but before he could turn to see his captor, Dwight's gun fired. Daryl was shot, white heat sending pain shooting down his arm and through his shoulder. He crumbled to the ground, the pain and the shock of being shot too much for him. Everything started to fade around him, turning to darkness.

"Don't worry. You'll be alright," Dwight said, the last thing Daryl remembered before waking up wherever he was now.

But he didn't feel alright. He was in pain, and he could hardly move. He was dehydrated, seeing double, short of breath, and angry. He knew Dwight shot him, but for some reason he didn't kill him. Daryl made a promise that Dwight would regret that decision just before passing out again.

Daryl lost consciousness several times, and each time he recovered he was weaker. His shirt was soaked in blood, which told him he was still bleeding. That would explain his debilitated state. How much blood had he lost since being shot? How long had it been? Where the hell was he? He had a sense that the others were here. He heard quiet moans, and he moaned himself, but they were gagged and tied up, unable to communicate. Daryl didn't have the strength to try anything.

As his situation deteriorated, Daryl started thinking about something Glenn said when he was trying to convince him to go home. He said something would go wrong because of Daryl's rash decision to hunt down Dwight. Things couldn't have gone any worse, he told himself. Once again, his stubbornness led nowhere good. Should have known that, asshole, he thought to himself. Something else Glenn said pierced his heart like a blunt knife. What would Aaron do when Daryl didn't come home? And the way he left things between them was tearing him apart. Some of the last things he told Aaron were horrible. He accused Aaron of cheating on him, of sleeping with Jesus. The look on Aaron's face haunted him, the disbelief that Daryl would ever think such a thing. At the time, he was just pissed off. He wanted to hurt Aaron in return for the hurt of not having him there after suffering the loss of Denise. How selfish a thing that was, he thought. Aaron had always been there for him in the past. Sooner or later, it was bound to happen … a time when Aaron wouldn't be available. It didn't mean he didn't care, but Daryl always took things much too personally. And now, he wasn't sure he would make it out of this situation alive. More than likely, he wouldn't, and Aaron's last memory of them was going to be their argument. How did everything get so damn fucked up? "Stupid … so stupid," Daryl thought.

He became tired, so tired that he couldn't keep his eyes open. Maybe he would just fall asleep and die, never knowing when he took his last breath. There probably wasn't much blood left in him by now. It was going to happen sooner or later. Actually, Daryl was surprised he lasted as long as he did since the outbreak. He knew Aaron played a big part in that. "I'm sorry, Aaron," Daryl thought, a single tear escaping, mingling with the blood and dirt on his face. "I tried. I really did. I always tried for you, and I know I said I would die fighting, but I've fucked everything up lately. I put my trust in someone and ended up here. And I abandoned the one person who always believed in me, the one who deserved all of my trust. I don't know what happened. Somewhere along the way, I guess I forgot. I got cocky. Maybe I took advantage of what we had or I became too demanding. Whatever it was, I screwed everything up and I lost people. What I regret most of all is losing you. I'm sorry, Aaron." As the last thought passed through his mind, Daryl closed his eyes and his world went dark.

* * *

Aaron and the group had been trying to reach Hilltop for what felt like hours, but at every turn it seemed they were blocked by the Saviors. The original route they took was blocked, and each new route they were met with larger numbers. At one point, the road was cut off by a stack of logs, something that could only be managed by multiple people and some heavy equipment. A man they didn't know was tossed from an overpass and was hung right before their eyes. They didn't have the man power or ammo to try and save him. All they could do was stand there and watch the man die swinging at the end of a rope. One thing they realized from all of this was that the Saviors had the numbers, much more than Alexandria had ever imagined.

Right now, though, they were playing a cat and mouse game, heading off the camper, forcing the group to go a certain direction. Too late Rick and the rest figured that it was a trap, and they fell right into it. But they were desperate to get to Hilltop. Maggie was really sick by now, and she was burning up with fever. If they didn't get there soon, they were going to lose her.

While Abraham drove, Rick and Eugene looked over a map, trying to find a road that the Saviors might not know about. Unfortunately, they were out of options. There was only one left, and they were sure it would be blocked too. Aaron listened as they came up with an idea. They knew the Saviors were looking for the RV. They didn't know how many people were inside. They had only seen a few of the group. What they needed was a diversion. According to the map, they were close to Hilltop, and they could probably make it the rest of the way on foot if they stuck to the forest. Eugene would drive the RV, taking the last route option. While the Saviors stopped the camper, the rest could continue to Hilltop, carrying Maggie on a litter. They had guns and knives to fight off any walkers, unless they came upon a ridiculously large herd. It would be slow going because they had to carry Maggie, but at least they would be moving towards their destination, and right now, every minute counted. So they stopped the camper and organized their plans.

Aaron hugged Eugene when they were saying their goodbyes. It felt like he was never going to see him again, and there was a really good chance of that happening. Aaron was taken aback by the man Eugene turned out to be, no longer the terrified and timid victim. It was amazing how much he'd changed. They all had, now that he thought about it. Everyone who joined Rick and his original group were better off now.

"If I make it out of here and back to Alexandria, I'll tell Daryl where you are. I'm sure he's back with the others by now," Eugene assured Aaron.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it," Aaron said, shaking Eugene's hand as they parted. Then he went to Maggie while Rick spoke to Eugene.

"How are you doing?" he asked her, kneeling on the ground next to the stretcher she laid on.

"Not so good," she croaked in a weak voice.

"We're just waiting on Rick, and then we'll be on our way. We're gonna get you to Hilltop to see the doctor. You're going to be just fine," Aaron smiled.

Finally they were on their way. Aaron made sure he was one of the people to help carry Maggie. He kept a close eye on her the whole time. He felt he owed her that much for all the advice and support she had given him. Maggie was the first person from Rick's group that he approached, as she and Sasha were sitting at the edge of a glade after surviving yet another night in the open. Maggie had also been the one who introduced him to Rick, and convinced him to listen to what Aaron had to say. And when Glenn got separated from the group during the attack on Alexandria, Aaron was there for Maggie, keeping her thoughts positive. That's when she told him she was pregnant. Before that, Glenn was the only one who knew. He felt a special bond with Maggie, one in which they always lifted each other up during difficult times. Now was one of those times, and Aaron would make sure she didn't lose hope.

"We're close, Maggie. You just got to hang in there a little bit longer, okay? We'll be there soon, and that doctor they got is going to treat you right away," Aaron encouraged.

"What if it's the baby," Maggie asked with a weakened voice. "What if something's wrong?"

"You have to keep positive thoughts," Aaron told her.

"And what happens when Glenn gets back, and someone tells him about us going to Hilltop. You know he will follow us, and with all the roads blocked by the Saviors . . ." she said worriedly.

"It will all work out. One way or another, it has to," Aaron said. 'You'll see. As soon as we–" His words were cut off by the sound of whistling. People were whistling in the woods. The group stopped and aimed their weapons, but the sound was coming from every direction. It was as if . . .

"We're surrounded," Aaron whispered with fear.

* * *

The darkness and silence was more peaceful than Daryl would have thought it could be. There was no pain, no sadness, no anger, just quiet for a change. He could keep slipping further and further into the abyss. He liked it here.

"Daryl," someone whispered. "You have to wake up."

"I don't want to. I like it like this. I've got no more worries," he refused.

"It's not time yet," the voice said. It was a soft feminine tone and it was familiar, but he didn't care about that.

"It was going to be my time sooner or later. I had a good run, but I'm tired."

"Everyone's tired, Daryl, but it doesn't mean you get to check out."

He felt his eyes open, but he still couldn't see anything. He didn't know if it was the bag over his head or if it was the dream he was in that kept his vision blank. "Who's talking?"

"That's not important."

"Then you're just a figment of my imagination, my subconscious trying to keep me alive," he argued. "Leave me alone."

"I can't do that. You need to listen to me."

Daryl was becoming annoyed. "Tell me who you are if you want me to pay attention to you. Otherwise, get the hell out of my mind."

The dark was split by a pure white light. It felt like shards of glass in his eyes. For a moment, he thought someone had taken off his blindfold. He lifted his hand to shade his eyes and realized he wasn't bound anymore. His feet were untied too, and he jumped up, unstable after hours of being cramped. He started to fall, but the light surrounded him, steadying him so he could stand.

"What is this?" he wondered aloud. "Who are you?"

The light dimmed just enough so that he could see a face. She was absolutely beautiful, more so than he ever remembered. "Beth?"

"It's me, Daryl," she smiled.

"Are you here to take me with you? Please say you are," he said with desperation in his tone. "I want to go. I can't do it anymore."

"I'm here to give you a message. You have to stay strong."

His shoulders slumped in defeat. "I've tried. I really have, but I don't have anything left. Let me go with you. Please."

"I can't," she said softly.

"Then why the fuck are you here? Can't you see I've ruined everything? I've tried time and time again to be a better man and to make the right choices, and every time it goes wrong. Look at you. I was supposed to protect you. And Denise, she gone because of me. Glenn, Rosita, Michonne … that's my fault too. Anyone who has ever put their trust in me suffers."

"What about Aaron?" she asked.

"I've been the most hurtful to him," he said solemnly.

"And yet he loves you more now than ever. And I know you love him too, although you won't tell me you do."

"It's over between us. I screwed it up. He'll never take me back, not after how I treated him," Daryl admitted.

"And you would let it end that way? Is that how much you care for him?"

"I care enough to let him go. He'll be better off without me. I can't come back from this, Beth. So much has happened. I've changed. The world has changed me. I've lost my way again. No matter how much I try, I always end up back to how I used to be."

Beth watched him a moment, and then she smiled, but the sadness didn't leave her eyes. "I'm not here to make you see things differently. I'm not here to convince you of anything except to tell you to not lose hope. You will see Aaron again, and what you decide to do with that time is up to you. It could be your moment of redemption. I know you are questioning yourself right now, but there are those who draw their strength from you, and none more than Aaron. You'll find your way back, but you have to get there first." She moved close so that all Daryl saw was her glowing face. "Now … Wake up!"

Daryl awoke, and inhaled a deep breath, as though he had stopped and his lungs ached for air. Nothing had changed. He was still trapped, hurt and bleeding, but he felt new strength within him. Beth didn't have to tell him anything else but that he was going to see Aaron again, and it would be enough to find his will once more. Whether or not this was his last chance to make things right between them, that didn't matter. All he cared about was meeting Aaron's eyes and telling him he was sorry … to tell him they never lost their trust in one another because Aaron was really and truly the only person he cared about. It was not enough to whisper apologies alone in the dark. He would tell Aaron face to face, even if it meant he would succumb to his wound right after. Beth told him it wasn't his time, but she didn't say how much time was left. Maybe that's why he saw her vision. Maybe he was just hallucinating from blood loss. Whatever it was, he knew what he had to do, and he wouldn't hesitate.

Suddenly, the muffled voices got louder. A door opened, the screech of metal hurting his ears. There was a bright light filtering through the weaving of the bag over his head. Someone grabbed his injured arm and made him stand. He cried out in pain through the gag. And then a familiar voice spoke in his ear.

"I'm taking the ropes off, but I suggest you not try anything or you'll be shot dead. I'm also going to take off your blindfold and the gag, and again, I suggest you not say anything. As a matter of fact, don't make a fucking sound or you'll get a bullet in the head. Am I clear?" Dwight informed him.

Daryl nodded, but he wanted nothing more than to kill his captor. However, he heeded Beth's words and stayed strong, pushing his hatred aside. The bag was removed, and the light blinded him. It wasn't the sun. This was like a spot light. It was purposefully aimed at him to keep him confused and disoriented. It was doing a good job of that. When he heard the shuffle of feet behind him, he glanced backwards and saw Glenn, Michonne and Rosita being let go too. They looked at each other, but no one said a word. Obviously, they had all been given the same warning.

"Alright, up and out," Dwight told them, and one by one they were shoved out of a truck and onto the ground. Just before Dwight pushed Daryl out, he draped a blanket over his shoulders. "Don't want everyone seeing you bleeding all over the place. Trust me, these guys can smell blood and fear." It was almost as though Dwight was trying to help him, but he doubted that very much.

Each captive had a Savior to lead them to their place and to make sure they didn't try anything. Dwight kicked Daryl's feet out from under him, and he was on his knees in the dirt. The light was so blinding, he didn't see anything else around him at first. The smell of pine was strong, and he knew he was in a forest, but why?

"Daryl!"

His heart dropped at the sound of his name, but more so because of who said it. He shaded his sensitive eyes to the light and saw them. Rick, Carl, Maggie, Abraham, Sasha, Eugene and . . .

"Aaron," Daryl responded. He tried not to speak, but he just couldn't.

Dwight kicked him pretty hard. "What did I tell you? Keep quiet unless spoken to or you're sure as shit dead."

"No. Stop," Aaron called out, and he tried to stand and go to Daryl, but he was hit with the butt of a shotgun. Aaron was about to fight back, but Daryl held his hand up to gain his attention.

"Don't," Daryl warned Aaron. "Please." He feared for Aaron's life. These people weren't joking around. Aaron calmed immediately and continued to kneel on the ground, but he never took his eyes from Daryl.

Dwight leaned down and whispered in Daryl's ear. "What was that all about? You some kind of faggot or something?" Daryl didn't protest nor did he deny the question. Dwight gave a huff. "Well, well, well. Didn't see that one coming. You're smart to tell your boyfriend to calm down. You don't want to put a marker on you, and you especially don't want the big guy finding something like that out."

"Why?" Daryl dared to ask.

"It's kind of like those reality shows that used to be on TV. You know, the ones where they voted somebody off. There was always someone who went after the power couples, and something tells me you and him are like one of those couples. Just keep your mouth shut, and you might get to go home with your boy over there."

Everyone was on their knees, surrounded by a hundred or more men with weapons, everything from sticks to guns. All eyes were on the group of Alexandrians. They were all terrified. It was on their faces. Daryl glanced around at everyone. Even Rick seemed lost. There was nothing anyone could do. They were at the mercy of the Saviors. The big mystery for Daryl was why were they all here? What were they doing out this way? Why was the RV here? Most importantly, why was Aaron here? He shouldn't be. Aaron should have been home where it was safe, but he was thrown into the mix with everyone else.

Once the crowd settled, it was announced that they were finally going to meet Negan, and out of the RV stepped a man who looked like he meant business. Daryl was instantly reminded of the people he grew up around, the arrogant pricks who he had to pretend to like, and this guy seemed like the prick of pricks. He smiled and it made Daryl sick to his stomach. He introduced them to his weapon, Lucille, a bat wrapped in barbwire. He made jokes. He tried to comfort them in a demented way. Negan was almost likeable, if you weren't the one kneeling on the ground. He had charisma and charm that bordered insanity. Now Daryl understood Dwight's warning.

Aaron listened to Negan's speech, but he kept his sights on Daryl. How had he ended up here? He should be back in Alexandria, but instead, he was doubled over, sitting on the ground, wrapped in a blanket. Aaron could see the great amount of blood. Daryl was hurt, possibly shot, and he had a good idea that it was the man that stood behind him, Dwight. Aaron wanted to jump up and try to strike a bargain with Negan. This was something Aaron had experience in. Way back when he was an NGO worker he often came across hostiles who he had to negotiate with in order to get out of sticky situations.

After a long speech and unending threats to the group, Negan was ready to play his game, one in which someone would have to die. Negan said it was a fair trade, considering how many Saviors died at the hands of Alexandrians. It turned into child's play as he chanted a nursery rhyme, going around to each person, pointing the bat at them, and making them squirm. Daryl's heart broke whenever Negan stopped in front of Aaron and pointed the bat at him. He wanted to jump up and tell Negan to take him instead, and leave all the rest of them alone, especially Aaron. The fear in his face was enough to move Daryl to forget about Dwight's advice and take Lucille's wrath. It was too late. Negan was about to decide someone's fate.

"And … you … are … it," Negan sang, stopping at his victim.

Neither Daryl nor Aaron looked at Negan. Their eyes locked upon one another, speaking to each other with all they had left. The intensity of the moment proved to be too much, as tears streaked down Aaron's face. Daryl's lip quivered as he tried to keep it together. Stay strong, he remembered from his dream of Beth. They will need you, she reminded him. She had also promised that he would see Aaron again, though this was far from how he imagined it. Could this be the last time they would lay eyes upon each other? Was this Daryl's last chance for redemption?

Tears threatened to fall from Daryl's misty eyes. He forced a partial smile as he looked at Aaron. "I'm sorry," he mouthed the words from across the forest floor.

"It's okay," Aaron smiled back. "I love you."

"I love you too," Daryl answered soundlessly.

As Negan raised his bat to begin the bludgeoning both Daryl and Aaron closed their eyes. Their connection was lost, but they said what needed to be said. They made their amends. It brought them peace, and it was enough to know that they found haven within each other's eyes. Everything was as it should be between them, and if this was to be the end, they knew their love for each other was stronger than ever. But that didn't change the fact that someone was about to die.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

"Enie … Meenie … Minie … Moe," Negan said slowly as he passed in front of each person, pointing his barb wire bat in their faces. Everyone was on their knees, breathing heavily, scared, sweating, praying that he didn't stop in front of them when he got to 'IT'. They were also fearful for whoever that person might be.

Aaron glanced over at Daryl whenever Negan had his back turned. Shit, he looked bad. He was doubled over, blood all over his shirt and in his hair. His eyes were swollen from being hit. There was a cut on his lip too. But what was breaking Aaron's heart was the look of pure fear on Daryl's face. Everyone was afraid. Everyone looked like it too, but Daryl . . . Aaron had never seen him like this before.

"Catch a … Tiger … By its … Toe," Negan continued with his cat and mouse game. Someone would be sacrificed. Someone would be the example. Dear God, please don't let it be Daryl, Aaron prayed. Take me first, he thought. Just let Daryl live.

Negan watched each and every one of them, Carl, Rick, Michonne, Sasha, Abraham, Maggie, Aaron, Eugene, Glenn, and Daryl. He stared hard into each person's face as he watched them squirm at every threat. He turned again, this time with his back toward Daryl, who was at the opposite end of the line they were in. He took the opportunity to make eye contact with Aaron, and he was desperate to get a message across. Aaron watched as he lips quivered, tears staining his eyes, and without any sound, he said, "I'm sorry."

Sorry for what, Aaron wondered at first. He was so scared, he had forgotten where they had left off last time they saw each other. Oh, Aaron thought solemnly. How could he forget? Daryl was upset with him because he had gone to Hilltop with Paul while Daryl was out on a run. But things went wrong, Denise died, and Aaron wasn't there when Daryl returned to Alexandria. It had been a terrible fight. Daryl went as far as to accuse Aaron of sleeping with Paul. Then he left, said it was over, and moved into his old house, sharing it with Morgan. Aaron remembered the hate and deceit in Daryl's eyes. He was untrusting of the only person he'd ever given complete trust to. What had Aaron done? He'd made a mess of things, that's what. He thought for sure that Daryl would never look at him again, never talk to him, never come close to him. Now, Daryl looked at Aaron with need and desperation to get his message across. He was sorry. He took it all back.

If only Aaron could go to him, hold him, take him in his arms and tell him how much he loved him, how sorry he was for not being there when Daryl needed him most. Of course, to move now would mean instant death. What if Negan stopped in front of him, Aaron thought. If it was going to happen anyways, then it was worth the risk to touch Daryl one last time and tell him how much he loved him. He couldn't die without Daryl knowing, without telling him aloud one more time.

"If he … Hollers … Let him … Go," Negan chanted, reaching Aaron again, staring into his face with that wicked psychotic smile. Aaron wouldn't look at him, but he couldn't help seeing the barb wire up close and personal. It would hurt, he thought, to have that cracked across his face. It would tear bits and pieces of flesh, maiming him until blood and muscle was exposed, then skull bone and then . . .

Negan went the rest of the way down the line and turned back, passing Aaron. Once he wasn't watching, Aaron turned his head and looked at Daryl again. Daryl's eyes hadn't left him, he thought. This might be his only chance.

"I love you," Aaron mouthed the words silently to Daryl. His bottom lip quivered, but he didn't stop watching Aaron. Negan was approaching him again. Daryl didn't look at him until he was standing directly in front, the end of the bat aimed at Daryl's cheek.

"Eeny … Meeny … Miney … Moe," Negan continued, every word falling on a different person. He was past Daryl now, standing in front of Glenn.

Daryl took the opportunity to glance back at Aaron, desperate to make contact again. If this was to be the end, they would spend every moment within each other's gazes. "I love you too," Daryl mouthed back in answer to Aaron.

He couldn't help it. Aaron's eyes filled with tears, escaping and running hot down his cheeks. After everything they had recently been through, Daryl still loved him. He should never have doubted this. Their love was strong. It always had been, even during those times when they fought, when they separated. Negan could take either of their lives, but he could never take their love from each other.

"My mother told me . . ." Negan said as he turned from Glenn and started down the line again. It was like playing Russian roulette and Negan was the gun. His bat, Lucille, was the one loaded chamber. Someone was going to end up with her in their head.

"To pick the very best one . . ."

Oh God, he was coming back to Aaron. Only four words left. Aaron was too frightened to do the math and see where Negan would stop. He didn't care if he was supposed to look straight or at Negan. Instead, he glanced down to Daryl again. If Negan stopped in front of him, he was going to shout his love to Daryl. It wouldn't matter if Aaron was the one picked to die. He would cry out to Daryl, tell him he loved him, and that he always had … always would.

"And … You … Are … It." Negan finished and Aaron noticed that it wasn't him but … Oh God … not Abraham. Aaron felt terrible as a momentary sliver in time let him feel relief that it wasn't him or Daryl that Negan stood before. That split second turned to shame for thinking the thought, and then horror when Negan followed through with his promise.

It was so surreal. Aaron kept thinking that someone was going to swoop in and save them. An arrow would fly out of the dark and impale Negan through the heart. A gunshot would mysteriously crack through the quiet and put a hole in Negan's temple, dead before he even hit the ground. None of those things happened, and Negan's bat came down on top of Abraham's head. Blood instantly ran down his face, but Abe never looked away from Negan. If he was going to die, he'd do it with his eyes upon Negan. The only thing he did was put two finger out, showing them to Sasha, some sort of signal. And then, going out in true Abraham Ford style, he glared up at Negan and said, "Suck … my … nuts."

Aaron thought the insult would bring on rage from Negan. Instead, he smiled, almost respecting Abraham's fearless defiance. "Taking it like a champ!" Negan said.

Aaron thought for a moment that Negan might not kill him. Maybe Abe's tough attitude earned him a second chance out of some kind of bizarre acknowledgment and honor from one unwavering son of a bitch to another. But it wasn't to be. Negan kept his part of the bargain, and slammed the bat down on Abraham's head repeatedly until there was nothing left but blood, bone and mush.

Aaron couldn't watch. He just looked straight ahead in terror. The sound, though. That would stay with him for the rest of his days.

* * *

The silence was deafening. Daryl couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Abraham's body laid stretched out on the ground, no longer recognizable. There was nothing left of his head and face. It was just a pool of blood and gore. Daryl had watched until Abraham fell, but when Negan repeatedly smashed his bat on the dead man's head, he looked away. When it was finally over, he slowly looked at each person. They were all terrified. Even Aaron wouldn't look at him now. He stared straight ahead off in the distance, breathing rapidly. When Daryl looked at Rick he saw the silent rage beneath the shock in his eyes. Daryl suddenly feared for the man. What would he do in retaliation to Abraham's murder? Whatever he was thinking, it would mean Rick's murder too.

As though this was just his daily routine, Negan lifted his bloody bat, smiling and proud, talking to it as if it was a living breathing entity. Rosita was closest to him. He stopped in front of her and asked her a question about her and Abraham. She looked straight ahead, ignoring Negan. Then he told her to look at his Lucille, mocking her, egging her on. She showed no response and Daryl was afraid of what he would do to her. She'd just seen the man she cared about bludgeoned to death. She didn't deserve this kind of treatments.

Daryl had a sudden flashback of his incident with Jake, the family friend who raped him as a teenager. In a similar way, Jake had antagonized him, tried to make him watch, tried to make him speak. Jake tried to break him, and when Daryl wouldn't respond because of shock, Jake abused him some more. Daryl remembered wishing he could just die so he didn't have to suffer anymore. As he watched Rosita, he saw in her eyes the same thing he had felt while being pushed into the dirty mattress, called names and belittled. No one was there to stop Jake. No one was there to protect Daryl. Well, today Daryl was here, and if no one else was going to do something, then dammit, he would.

With no warning, and Negan so close to him, Daryl found enough strength to ignore the pain of the gunshot wound to his shoulder, jump up from being crouched on the ground, and punch Negan in the jaw. At the very last second, Negan saw movement from the corner of his eye and deflected a full on hit that probably would have broken his jaw. Daryl still got a hit in, though. At least now the attention was away from Rosita.

In a split second, Dwight, who had been standing behind Daryl this whole time, knocked him to the ground and aimed the crossbow at Daryl's head.

"I'll fucking kill you for doing that," Dwight said, finger on the trigger and about to squeeze.

"Wait just a moment," Negan said, stopping Dwight. He walked up to Daryl, his hand rubbing the side of his face where Daryl cocked him. "Damn," he said as though impressed. "We got us a fighter. That's some impressive fury you got there. See Dwight, that's the kind of shit that shouldn't be kept bottled up. A man with that kind of anger could come in very useful." Negan pushed the end of his bat against Daryl's head. "Or you're just stupid and I should take you down right–"

"No!" Aaron shouted from the other side of the yard. He instantly regretted it, fearful that Negan would kill Daryl in punishment for breaking the rules, but he couldn't help himself. He had to.

Negan squinted his eyes, trying to figure out who called out. He could have asked his men which one it was, but he didn't. He turned back to Daryl and smiled. "Looks like today is your lucky day. You're cheering section has spoken. And besides, it took balls for you to do to me what you just did. That's the kind of shit I like to see, though not when I'm the target. I'll let it slide this time." Negan turned back in Aaron's direction. "Your man here is safe." Then he turned back to Daryl and his smile turned to something of pure evil. "But this one here isn't."

The bat came down on Glenn's head, who had been kneeling next to Daryl. The first hit was so hard that his eye popped out of its socket. Maggie screamed. Daryl watched in horror. Everyone couldn't believe what they were seeing.

"Jesus, would you look at that. His eye came right out of his fucking head. Shit. That is fucked up," Negan said.

Glenn's attention went to Maggie. He mumbled something, but he was having trouble forming words.

"What was that?" Negan provoked. "You trying to say something? Christ!"

"M-M-Maggie. I-I will f-find you," Glenn sputtered.

"Alright, that's enough of this shit," Negan said, and he proceeded to beat Glenn in the head the same way he had done to Abraham. It seemed to go on forever, and when he was done, he turned to the group again. "The first one was an example. Every group has to pay my price. Now, I didn't want to have to do this to him, but your boy here got out of line. There are rules, and when they are broken, there are consequences. I don't want to kill you people. If I kill you all then who will be left to work for me?"

Daryl was in shock. He was shaking uncontrollably after being dragged back in line by Dwight. He didn't fight it this time. He just let the man haul him over dirt and rock. If Dwight said anything to him, he didn't hear. There was nothing but loud ringing in his ears, and he shut the world out. What had he done? This was all Daryl could think about. Why couldn't he have controlled his anger? Now, Glenn was dead because of him.

* * *

Aaron was numb with fear and shock. Two of their people were lying dead, and the rest were still being held on their knees. He dared to glance at Daryl, who was curled up on his knees on the ground with his own crossbow aimed at his head. Daryl wouldn't look towards Aaron. He was just shaking and staring at the ground.

Negan came back to Rick and had words with him, but Rick was so full of rage. He threatened to kill Negan, who found it funny at first, but when Rick made a promise to kill him, Negan had finally had enough. It ended with Negan dragging Rick by the collar into the RV, the same RV they had used to try and get Maggie to Hilltop.

Oh God, Maggie, Aaron thought. Something was wrong with her or possibly the baby. She'd been so sick and running a fever. Aaron glanced at her and she looked terrible. If something was wrong with the pregnancy, seeing her husband senselessly beaten might cause her to miscarry. Their whole reason for being out here was to get her to Hilltop and get her the help she needed. Aaron wanted to say something to the man standing behind him. If he could convince someone to at least take Maggie to . . .

No, he told himself. The Saviors couldn't know that Alexandria and Hilltop were working together. Shit, they were really alone out here. Not even the people back home knew what was happening. Maybe the Saviors had a doctor or someone who could help her. Aaron turned his head to the side. "Please," he begged. "Maggie, the woman over there, she's sick and she's pregnant."

"Shut up," he captor commanded.

"She needs a doctor. If you have someone here that's–"

"Keep your mouth shut," the man interrupted him.

"She could lose the baby," Aaron tried again.

"I said shut the fuck up," the man said, and he hit Aaron in the back of the head with the butt of his riffle.

Aaron immediately saw stars and he thought he was going to pass out.

"Aaron!" Daryl cried out in a whimper.

Dwight kicked him and put his finger on the trigger of the crossbow, aiming it at Daryl. "Negan said there's to be no talking while he's gone. Not a fucking sound. Any of you makes even the slightest noise, I will shoot him in the head. Got it?"

It seemed like an eternity before the RV pulled up. Negan and Rick exited, and Rick was put back in his original spot. Aaron thought Rick looked like he'd had a rough time of it, and he wondered what Negan had done to him. He had words with Rick, and was still unconvinced that his rules were being taken seriously. The last of Negan's torture happened when tempers flared, and he ordered Carl to be held on the ground.

Jesus, Aaron thought, Negan was going to kill Carl in front of his father. If there was one thing that would break Rick that would be it. But Negan didn't want Carl dead. However, he gave Rick back his hatchet and ordered him to cut off Carl's hand. Death would have been horrible, but to maim one's own child, to cause unbearable pain and suffering was a worse fate. Aaron couldn't take it as he watched Rick cry and beg Negan to not make him do this. Negan threatened to kill another member of his group if he refused. He would take a life or Rick could take a hand. It was just that simple.

Rick glanced around at his people, and in the end, he made the decision to cut off his own son's hand. Aaron couldn't watch. He wished he couldn't hear Rick crying and blubbering, a man truly broken and submitting to torture. It was horribly demoralizing and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Just before Rick was about to take Carl's hand, Negan stopped him. What now, Aaron asked himself in disgust. When would it end? Negan said he changed his mind. Then he proceeded to force Rick to swear his loyalty to him. Alexandria's leader was broken and no longer in charge. Negan ruled now. Life was about to change in a way that no one could imagine.

By the time it was all over with, the sun was coming up. The whole group was exhausted both mentally and physically. They were all broken to some degree. All Aaron could think of was going to Daryl and seeing how badly he was injured. First thing would be to get him to Hilltop with Maggie, and get both of them medical attention. It couldn't be much further. They had driven quite a ways before they were caught by Negan.

Aaron paced on his knees, like a runner getting ready to hear the gun go off. As soon as it was safe, he would sprint to Daryl. He watched Negan approach the RV, one of his men opening the door for him like he was a king. Then, Negan stopped and turned back. Aaron's heart sunk. What now he wondered.

"You know, I get the feeling I might need some kind of collateral, so . . ." He paused and pointed at Dwight. "Load this one up in the back of the truck. He's coming with us."

"No," Aaron instantly begged. "Please, don't take Daryl. Please don't."

Negan paused and glared at Aaron as though a light was going on in his head. He looked back at Daryl and to Aaron again. He smiled that disgusting grin of his. "Holy shit. Why didn't I see it before?" He turned to one of his men standing closest to him. "We got ourselves a couple fags here, don't we?" Negan covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me. I meant to say homosexuals. I forget my manners sometimes." His face turned severe, no longer making jokes. "Get him up," he commanded to Dwight. Dwight forced Daryl to his feet, and Negan got right in his face, whispering. "Is this true? Is that your boyfriend over there? Is that why he couldn't keep his mouth shut while I was gone with Rick? Oh yeah, I heard about that. Lucky for him that I wasn't here." Negan glanced down at Glenn's body and back to Daryl. "I wish I had known this earlier. I might have wasted my message on the wrong person."

"You touch him, and–" Daryl seethed, only to be cut off by Negan.

"You'll what?" Negan said in a threatening tone, trying to get Daryl to finish the sentence. When Daryl didn't answer, Negan smiled. "I didn't think so." Without taking his eyes from Daryl, he gave his next order. "Dwight, load lover boy up in the van."

Dwight shoved Daryl toward the back of the box van that had brought him, Michonne, Glenn and Rosita. Another man helped load him in. Aaron watched him struggle against his captors. Once Daryl was free of Dwight's grip, he tried to make his way out of the van, but the door closed him in. Dwight knocked on the side of the truck, signaling to the driver that everything was ready. All Aaron or anyone else could do was watch.

Negan turned to Rick to explain his reason for taking Daryl. "I'm taking your man as, shall we say, collateral. I'm giving you a week to take inventory of your shit, and I mean all your shit, in which, at the time of my arrival I'll be expecting you to give me half. If I find out you're holding out on me or if any of you try to fuck with me in any way, I will mutilate him to the point where you don't even recognize him." Here, Negan glanced at Aaron to get his point across. "All you have to do is follow my simple rules, and there will be peace between our communities. I mean, really, what's the big fucking deal? Am I right? Okay then. A pleasure doing business with you."

They watched as Negan stepped into the RV, a handful of his men following him, and gave the command to go. When the RV pulled out, so did the box van with Daryl inside. The rest of the Saviors found their own transportation, hitching rides with those who had vehicles. One of them had a Polaroid camera, and he was taking pictures of Negan's handy work. Aaron remembered seeing the photos on the wall at the Saviors compound, the crushed skulls of nameless victims. Now he knew what it all meant.

Finally, Rick and his people were alone again. All the saviors were gone. Daryl was gone. Glenn and Abraham were dead, their bodies still in plain sight. It was as though they were still being held captive. No one moved from their places on the ground. Everyone was still in shock after the long and torturous night. Maggie was the first to speak.

"We have to follow them," she whispered.

"We can't," Sasha told her.

Maggie wasn't listening. "If we go now, we can catch up, maybe find out where they live." As she spoke, she struggled to her feet. She was still sick and pale.

"Maggie, we can't," Aaron said as he got up and went to her. "I, of all people, want nothing more to follow them and get Daryl back. God knows what they're going to do to him. But you saw how many there were. There's probably even more wherever they're going. We're outnumbered."

"And we have to get you to Hilltop," Sasha said. "Think of the baby."

After some arguing, they came up with a plan. Sasha and Aaron would take Maggie and the bodies of Abraham and Glenn to Hilltop. The rest would go back to Alexandria and start preparing for Negan's visit in a week. They needed to regroup. They needed to make sure no one else died. Rick would have to talk to the rest of the people in Alexandria and make them realize the importance of the situation. Negan was in control now.

* * *

Daryl didn't know how long they had driven, but it felt like a long time. Wherever they were going, they didn't take paved roads until they were almost to their destination. He could tell because of the rough roads that made the truck bounce and shift. He was in complete darkness, the only light coming through a hole in the roof where a rivet must have come out.

Eventually, the truck came to a stop. He heard men yelling in the distance, giving orders to open the gates. The truck started up again, drove slowly for a bit, and then came to another stop. Daryl's only hope was to overtake whoever let him out of the truck. He had no weapons and he searched frantically for something to use. The only thing on his person of any use was his shoelace, so he quickly untied and unlaced his boot, doubled the lace in half and wrapped it around his hands. The door opened and Daryl was instantly blinded by the sun. They had parked the truck in such a way that the sun shone into his eyes. It didn't matter much to Daryl. He could still hear voices, and there was one voice he recognized above the others … Dwight.

"Tony, you go in and bring out the prisoner but be careful. He's–" Dwight ordered, but before he could finish his warning, Tony was already taking Daryl by the arm. Before he knew what happened, Daryl stretched his arms out and brought the shoelace down over the man's head, wrapped it around his neck and pulled. Tony reached up by instinct, trying to get the string from his neck, but it was already burrowing into his skin. Tony started flailing and choking, reaching back to try and grab Daryl, but he was unsuccessful.

"Don't do this, man," Dwight said calmly.

"You let me go and he lives. Otherwise, I'll take off his whole fucking head," Daryl seethed. His sight adjusted to the light, and he could see three men, including Dwight, all aiming guns at him. He pulled the lace even tighter until Tony's eyes started rolling up into his head.

"The way I see it, whether you kill him or not, we've got the firepower. This is a losing battle. Give up now, and maybe we'll go easy on you," Dwight said.

Daryl knew he was right. They could shoot him right now to save Tony. He also noticed that they didn't seem to care if Tony died. They would just shoot Daryl once he had no hostage. His mistake was thinking that they cared about their people. Daryl finally let Tony go, but he shoved him forward when he did. Tony went to his knees, his hand rubbing his throat as he got his breath back. Dwight waited until Tony was out of the way. Then he demanded that Daryl come out of the truck. Reluctantly, Daryl did as he was told. Once Daryl was out of the truck, other men without guns swarmed him, held his arms behind his back, tied his wrists with wire and pushed him forward. As Daryl took his first step, his boot came off and he looked back.

"You're not going to need that where you're going," Dwight said. "Move it along, scumbag."

Daryl's shoulder was killing him, but he wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of watching him suffer. Instead, he looked around at his surroundings. This place was huge. It looked like an old factory of some kind, with smokestacks and multiple stories, glass windows and corrugated steel. The whole place was about the size of half a city block. He thought back to Jesus telling them that he'd seen as many as twenty Saviors once. They were foolish to think the people they killed at the satellite station were the majority of this group. They had just been a drop in the bucket compared to what Daryl was seeing now.

They walked along a narrow path that was surrounded by a courtyard of walkers. They were all chained or impaled, anchored to concrete barriers or chain link fences. Some were impaled with iron rods sticking out of the ground, their decaying bodies sliding up and down the post. It looked like a defense mechanism that would keep people out as well as keep people in. It wouldn't take much faltering to find yourself off the cleared path and in the hands of any one of the restrained walkers.

Daryl noticed that some of the walkers were freshly turned. Now he knew what happened to people that didn't follow Negan's rules. Dwight came up beside him then, noticing Daryl taking in his surroundings. "Even after death, Negan still has a use for us," he muttered. Then he pointed to a steel door on the building. "In there," he commanded, and the men leading Daryl shoved him through the door.

They entered into a hallway with multiple doors on either side. It looked like a back entrance to the factory, and this would have been where the maintenance crew worked. It was the bowels of the factory, and it looked like this was where they would keep Daryl.

It was a labyrinth of corridors and rooms, and by the time they reached Daryl's cell, he had lost his way. He tried to remember the turns so when he escaped he'd know how to get out. His hope in accomplishing this was disappearing quickly. Eventually, they came to another hallway. This one was off on its own. It was poorly lit and there was an upturned bucket at the end where a man sat. He wore a dirty beige sweat suit with a letter H painted in red on the front of the shirt. Daryl thought it was odd. He didn't look like the other workers, who wore workman jumpsuits or their normal clothes. He looked like he worked in the lowest level of entry, or perhaps he was a prisoner. He wasn't in a cell though. That was the only difference

"Is your old place cleaned out?" Dwight asked the man in the dirty sweats.

"Yes," H nodded.

"Good," Dwight said, pleased. "You keep this up and you'll be moving up a floor. But for now, you've got your job to do. There's a couple stiffs to take out to the yard."

H nodded again, and made his way down the hall where they had just come from. Dwight pulled the heavy metal door open and stood to the side. There was an unholy stench that came out of the room, like feces, puke, piss and death. Daryl coughed as the smell hit him full force.

"You'll get used to the smell after a while," Dwight said. He moved behind Daryl and shoved him inside. "First off, give me your shoe and your belt. We don't need a repeat of earlier."

Daryl took off his remaining shoe and his belt, tossed them towards the doorway and stood in the center of the small room. He glared at Dwight as he did, not forgetting that this was the man who stole all his stuff and killed his friend, Denise. There was still the matter of seeking revenge on the man, but now wasn't the time.

"Now, take off your shirt," Dwight commanded.

"What the hell for," Daryl questioned.

"The doc here's gonna fix your shoulder." Dwight looked down the hall and motioned for someone to come into the room. An older man with a black bag and a stethoscope came in, but paused.

"Are you sure it's safe?" the doctor asked.

Dwight motioned again and four large armed men came into the room, surrounding Daryl and aiming their weapons at him. "He won't try anything, will you Daryl?"

Daryl didn't answer, but he slowly took off his shirt and held it in one hand. One of the guards made a face, noticing the scars on Daryl's back. He never let anyone see his scars. Denise had seen a small section when she mended a knife wound once. Aaron was the only one who had seen them, had touched them and kissed them, and asked what his story was. God, he missed Aaron so much and prayed that he was safe back in Alexandria by now.

"Turn around a second," Dwight said when he noticed his guard gawking.

Daryl glared at Dwight, but did as he was told. He felt Dwight's judging eyes on him.

"Damn," Dwight said with amazement. "Guess you're no stranger to pain and punishment. Doc, fix him up nice and neat. No reason to add to this roadmap on his back."

One of the men outside the room slid the bucket from the hallway into the room. An armed guard put it behind Daryl and told him to sit. Daryl did so, but at his own slow pace. The doctor put his bag on the floor and opened it up. He took out a pair of rubber gloves, and a bottle of antiseptic and rags. He leaned down to Daryl's ear and whispered. "This might sting a bit."

Next thing, Daryl was wincing and trying not to cry out when the medicine was poured over his wounded shoulder. Once it was cleaned up, the doctor made the observation that the bullet had gone clean through, entering the back of the shoulder and coming out the front. That must be why there was so much blood, Daryl thought to himself. The doctor worked to clean the entry and exit wounds, preparing it for stitches. Again, he leaned down to Daryl's ear. "I'm sorry, but I don't have anything to numb the area." He reached into his bag and pulled out a half inch thick wooden dowel. "You can bite down of this if you think it will help."

"I don't need it," Daryl growled.

"Suit yourself," the doctor said, and he started sewing up Daryl's shoulder.

Daryl's jaw clamped shut and he grinded his teeth to ward off the pain. It was the very least he deserved after what he'd done. It hadn't gone far from his mind, punching Negan and in return, having to watch the man kill Glenn. Negan had said it was the only reason he had to do it. He wasn't going to kill more than one, but Daryl's outburst forced his hand. There were rules, and Daryl was the first to break one of them. God, Daryl thought with regret, what had he done?

After a short while, the doctor said he was finished. One of the guards in the room yanked Daryl up by his arm so he was standing again. The doctor took off his bloody gloves and looked around for a place to dispose of them. The guard flipped the bucket over and pointed. The doctor gathered up all the soiled rags and the needle, along with the gloves, and put everything into the bucket. He let Dwight know he was finished and told him he'd need to see the patient in a few days to make sure infection hadn't set in. Dwight nodded and watched the doctor leave the hall.

Daryl started to put his shirt back on, but Dwight stopped him. "Uh, no, you don't need that," Dwight said, hand outstretched to collect Daryl's shirt. Daryl gave it to him reluctantly. Dwight held his hand out again. "Gonna need everything."

"What?" Daryl protested with a disgusted look.

"That little trick you tried when we first got here has earned you your first punishment. You can't be trusted, Daryl. If you can use a shoelace to try and kill a man, imagine what else you'll think up and use. Everything goes. You get nothing but this shithole of a room to sit in and think about what you've done."

"I'm not taking my clothes off," Daryl seethed. He was answered with the sound of four shotguns being cocked and aimed at him. He decided to test them and see how far he could go. "You won't shoot me. I'm collateral. You heard Negan. The only way you're killing me is if my people don't deliver, and there's not much chance of that happening."

Dwight smiled and huffed, shaking his head. "Daryl, Daryl. I can see how you might think that way, but I assure you, it's not going to matter whether you're dead or alive. Your people will fall in line just like all the rest. I can shoot you right now or next week. Eventually your people are going to screw up and your death will be the result of it. We'll just say we're holding onto you until we're sure they're onboard. Or perhaps Negan will tell them he found a better use for you. Those stiffs you saw on the way in here … that's what you'll be used as. One way or another you'll be put to use." Dwight's smile disappeared and his eyes turned hard. "Now … strip!" he demanded.

Daryl had no other choice than to do as he was told. He undid his pants and slid them off, and then his underwear. He brought his hands in front of him to hide his nakedness, and glared from beneath the dirty strands of hair that hung in his face. The three armed guards watched him, but one looked at him differently. Two watched him for any sudden movements, ready to take action if they were needed. It was the third man that held Daryl's attention. He was a tall and muscular, broad in the shoulders, arms like two cannons. He had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and a well-groomed goatee. There was something fierce about the straight line of his jaw, which he clenched and relaxed repeatedly like someone grinding their teeth. Thick dark brows sat over sinister brown eyes that revealed salacious thoughts. Daryl knew what it meant when the line of a man's sight raked across his body in this way. And standing here naked in front of everyone left nothing to the imagination, except whatever this man envisioned doing to Daryl. He cupped his balls a little tighter, feeling extremely vulnerable.

Dwight was handed Daryl's clothes and turned to leave the room, but he stopped short. "One more thing," he said over his shoulder. "Don't forget that I know about your … friend. You try anything, anything at all, and Lucille's gonna pay him a visit. Got it?" With that said, Dwight left the room, followed by the three guards. Before they were all gone, the last man, the one Daryl was suspicious of, glanced over his shoulder and winked at Daryl.

The door shut and he heard the sound of a lock click into place. He was thrown into darkness, the only light filtering in from the small space beneath the door. It was hardly wide enough to stick his fingers through, but he could see shadows as Dwight and his men left. There were no windows or vents in the room. There was no furniture of any kind. Even the bucket had been taken away. The walls and floor were solid concrete, cold and unforgiving, and he was naked. The dampness seeped into his skin almost immediately, but he had nothing to protect himself from the dropping temperature. His mind was not satisfied with what his eyes saw, and he paced the room, hands roaming over the walls looking for anything, even the slightest crack. There was nothing, but the movement helped warm him a bit. His adrenaline still coursed through his veins, and kept his blood thrumming, but eventually he knew his body would succumb to the cold concrete and damp. How long were they going to keep him here? He wondered.

His only means of escape was through the door, and that would depend on someone opening it for him. He would have to come up with a plan. He only had one chance at it. If he was caught and brought back to his cell, it would mean . . .

Daryl didn't want to think about it, but he had no choice. The decision he made to attack Negan cost Glenn his life. A botched escape would mean Aaron's life. Poor decisions from his past surfaced, one's that cost other people he cared about their lives. Was he just that arrogant and selfish that he didn't care what might happen to those around him? He hadn't had time to give it much thought until now. It had seemed surreal at the time. Glenn was dead. Glenn, who he'd known since the beginning, who had become a good friend, who he'd seen grow from a boy to a man and soon to be father was . . .

That brought his thoughts to Maggie. Would she blame him? Would she consider Daryl responsible for the reason why her child wouldn't have a father? After all, if he'd only held his temper a little longer, Glenn would probably be alive. God, what had he done? Maybe he deserved to be here. No, he told himself. He deserved to be back in Alexandria with Aaron. But did he really? Maggie wouldn't have Glenn now, and she didn't deserve to have her husband taken from her, from the world, from their unborn child.

"I'm shit," Daryl whispered to himself, the first tendrils of guilt beginning to wrap their cold fingers around his heart.

Suddenly there was very loud music being pumped into the room. Daryl abandoned his self-pity to give that a thought. If there was music, there had to be speakers. Speakers only worked when they were wired in. Wire could be used to take a man down. A new spark of hope got him back to his original plan of escaping. He looked around the room again, trying to find out where the music was coming from. The problem was it was so loud he couldn't pinpoint it. He looked at the ceiling and found what he was looking for. They looked like they were recessed in to ceiling, but if he could work the mesh covers loose he could probably pry the speakers out far enough to pull out some wire. He wouldn't need much, just enough to wrap around a throat. If he couldn't do that, he might could use the mesh covers themselves, depending on whether it was metal or not. He could sharpen it using the wall and slice someone in the neck, preferably Dwight. Daryl got excited. He had a plan now. That's all he needed was a plan and . . .

What little spark his hope had ignited fizzled out when he realized, "I've got no way of reaching up that high." The ceilings were at least eight, maybe ten feet, and with nothing in the room to climb up on it was impossible. "I'm fucked." He leaned with his back against the wall and slid down to the floor. The music filled his head and stole his thoughts. It was a disgustingly upbeat song about having it good, and how great life was. It was complete opposite of what Daryl was experiencing. He'd never felt so helpless since . . .

The thought of his childhood and Jake made him remember the look that one asshole guard gave him. His eyes traveled slowly up and down Daryl's naked form. Hopefully that would be the last time he'd see that one guard. He could be trouble for Daryl if he tried anything. Naked or not, no one would ever force Daryl into a situation like the one Jake put him in years ago. Daryl would kill any man who tried.

He wasn't completely giving up on an escape plan. Even though there was nothing useful right now, he had the power to change that. It seemed that he wasn't getting out of the cell any time soon. With the music blaring and being stripped to nothing, Daryl knew they were trying to break him. He would use this to his advantage. He would follow their rules. He would endure whatever tests they were planning to put him through. If, by the end, he was still in this cell, perhaps they would reward him with, hopefully, clothes. Maybe after that it would be a mattress or a bed. If he played along, he just might be able to collect what he needed to get out of this place. He'd have to keep all of his options open and treat every little reward as a step in the right direction. One way or another, he was going to leave this place.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40 Walking the Thin Line**

A pickup truck pulled up fast at the Hilltop gate. The guards at the top of the wall readied their spears and yelled down to the vehicle for the inhabitants to come out slowly. Aaron didn't listen. He jumped out with his hands raised in the air and called up to them. "I'm Aaron. I'm from Alexandria. I have two women with me, one who needs to see the doctor. Maggie. Maggie Greene. She's pregnant but something's wrong."

The guards stared down at Aaron, unsure what to do. Sasha came out of the passenger side. "Please, we need your help."

"What's in the back?" one guard asked when he saw the bundles of canvas in the bed of the truck.

"We were … attacked by Saviors," Aaron said with a lump in his throat. "Those are our friends."

"Open the damn gate!" someone yelled from inside. The guards looked backwards and down, and then called out their orders. Paul was standing inside the yard, pacing impatiently as the gate seemed to take forever to open.

Aaron and Sasha jumped back inside the truck, and when there was just enough room to squeeze through, Aaron punched the accelerator and drove inside. Paul ran to the passenger side door and opened it before the truck came to a stop. Aaron noticed that a couple other people came out to help him. Sasha jumped out to let Paul inside. He came out of the cab helping Maggie, who was a horrible shade of ashen gray, dark circles under her eyes, and hunched over in pain. Aaron was amazed at her strength earlier. After enduring fever and pain, fear, shock and great sorrow, she was still ready and willing to go after Negan. He had a newfound respect for her. Maggie was tougher than anyone he knew, except maybe Daryl.

Thinking of Daryl made his heart hurt. What happened to him? Where had the Saviors taken him? What were they doing to him? The urge to jump back into the truck and take off to try and find him was strong, and Aaron had to talk himself out of it several times as the others were tending to Maggie. She was his main goal at the moment, he reminded himself. He needed to make sure she was alright before he did anything else.

Aaron had an arm around Maggie. Sasha was on the other side. Paul tried to take over for Sasha, but she insisted that she could handle it. No one said anything after that. They followed Paul, and rushed Maggie into the great house and straight to the infirmary. A man with short blond hair came out of another room when he saw the commotion. Paul's eyes went straight to him. "Get the Doc," he demanded, and the blond man took off up the stairs, no questions asked.

Aaron recognized the blond right away. He was the man who he'd seen going to Paul's room when Aaron visited Hilltop not that long ago. He was the one who kissed Paul on the balcony as Aaron waited for Paul to take him back to Alexandria. It was Alex, Paul's part time lover, and assistant to Doctor Carson.

They got Maggie into the infirmary and onto the exam table. It took only seconds, and Doc Carson came in with Alex in tow. He started asking Maggie questions about her condition. Sasha was there to help her answer. Paul pulled Aaron away so he could speak with him. Alex, Aaron noticed, kept an eye on them.

"What happened?" Paul asked with concern.

"Maggie got sick. We were all afraid it was the baby. We were on our way here to get her to your doctor when we were stopped by Negan and the Saviors." As he finished the sentence, Aaron hung his head. "It was awful. They held us captive for hours, and Negan … he–"

"You saw Negan?" Paul asked.

"Yeah." Aaron looked up at Paul's shocked face. "Haven't you ever seen him before?"

"No," Paul said shaking his head. "He's never come to Hilltop. He always sends his right hand man, Simon."

"You don't want to meet him. He's psychotic. The things he did … I … I can't right now," Aaron said, the memories too new, too raw.

"Don't talk about it. It's okay. I understand," Paul soothed.

Alex came up to them. When he spoke he looked at Paul, not Aaron. "The Doc said he needs to give Maggie a full examination. I think it would be better if you stepped out of the room for now."

"Yeah sure," Paul said. "Come on," he said to Aaron. Turning back to Alex he said. "Let us know as soon as you hear anything about her condition, okay?"

"I will," Alex smiled. Aaron was reminded of Eric, who used to smile at him in a similar way.

"Hey, Aaron," Maggie called out from the exam table. Aaron turned and went to her. "Take care of Glenn and Abraham."

Aaron took her hand and squeezed, smiling down at her. "I will."

Paul led Aaron back into the foyer and outside into the yard. He gestured for Aaron to go wherever he felt comfortable, but Aaron stayed at the bottom of the steps, away from the people busy carrying out their day. Paul continued with his questions. "What happened?"

"There was a bunch of us." Aaron paused to think about what led up to everything. "I don't know what happened. It just went crazy. Carol left in the middle of the night. Daryl left in the morning. Rick and Morgan went after Carol. Glenn, Michonne and Rosita took off after Daryl. Rick came back alone. And then Maggie got really sick. We decided to take Maggie to Hilltop, and got her in the RV. It was Rick and Carl, Sasha, Abraham and Eugene and me with Maggie. We kept getting road blocked by Saviors. At first it was just a few, but at every stop there were more and more. We were running out of road, and came up with a plan to let Eugene take the RV while the rest of us made it the rest of the way here by foot. We put Maggie on a litter and were carrying her through the woods when … all of a sudden there were people whistling. At first it was only a few, just like the road blocks. And then the whole forest was nothing but whistling. And then we were surrounded, trapped just as they had planned. They opened up a truck and out came Rosita, Glenn, Michonne and … and Daryl. We were all there together. The Saviors must have captured them too."

"Where is everyone now?" Paul asked. His questions were short and to the point as he tried to make sense of what had happened.

"Rick took the rest home to Alexandria … Rosita, Eugene, Michonne, Carl," Aaron counted. "Sasha and I brought Maggie here. And . . ." He paused, finding it difficult to continue.

Paul glanced at the truck and the canvas bundles in the back. He put a hand on Aaron's shoulder to comfort him. "Glenn and Abraham," he said as gently as possible.

Aaron looked toward the truck, and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah."

Paul hung his head in sorrow, but he knew there was one name Aaron hadn't said yet. "What about Daryl?" Paul asked carefully.

"Negan took him."

"So he's alive?" Paul wondered.

"As far as I know, but … Shit, I don't know what they're going to do to him," Aaron said worriedly.

"Did they say why they took him?"

"Negan said he needed collateral. He's coming to Alexandria in a week, and if we don't cooperate, he's going to . . ." Aaron couldn't finish that sentence. He shook his head in frustration.

"Listen, if Negan said he's keeping Daryl as insurance, then that's what he's doing. One thing about Negan is, he keeps his word. He's probably just got Daryl locked up, waiting until he goes to Alexandria to collect his payment. You just need to make sure Rick gives Negan whatever he's asking for."

"He wants half of everything, but we don't have that much to begin with. Shit, we've been taking contributions from Hilltop, and that's been slowly dwindling away. What if we don't have enough? What happens if Negan isn't satisfied with what little we have?" Aaron shook his head as he started shifting from one foot to the other. "I have to go and see if I can find Daryl. I have to get him out of there."

"You can't do that," Paul said. "It's too risky. What if you're caught? You won't be helping Daryl or Alexandria."

"Well, I can't just sit here and not do anything," Aaron said with frustration.

"Negan doesn't give leniency. You break his rules and people die," Paul said. "Do you even know where the Saviors compound is?"

"No," Aaron said, shaking his head. "But I'll find out. I know which way they left. I'll just go in that direction."

"You'll be going into their territory blind as a bat. I've got to put my foot down, Aaron. You can't take the chance at getting you, Daryl or anyone else in Alexandria killed, and that's exactly what will happen when you're caught."

Aaron thought about what Paul said. He knew the man was right. Negan repeated several times about his rules and following them or pay the consequence. Daryl had broken his rule when he punched Negan, and the punishment was another death, Glenn. What must Daryl be going through? Aaron knew he'd blame himself for what happened, but he was trying to help. No one else was doing anything, least of all Rick. "Okay," Aaron finally agreed for now. "I'll stay. Besides, I want to help with the burial. I promised Maggie that I'd see to it."

"Burial?" Paul said, confused.

"Of course. We're not taking them back to Alexandria. It's already too much on the women. I know they weren't residents, but we thought Hilltop was as good a place as any. At least they'll be put to rest in a–"

"I'm sorry, Aaron, but we don't bury our dead," Paul interrupted.

"You don't? Why?"

"I don't know. Gregory always said to burn the dead. Maybe it's because we don't have a lot of room. No one has ever challenged it. We just do as Gregory says," Paul explained as best as he could.

"Maggie isn't going to want to do that. She's expecting a burial. That's how we do it in Alexandria, and that's how Maggie has always done it. People die and they are buried," Aaron demanded. This was why he was here, to take over for Maggie when she couldn't do it herself. "It's not that big a deal."

"It is to Gregory," Paul said in a hushed tone.

Aaron furrowed his brows. "How the hell did you let such an asshole become your leader?"

Paul huffed a laugh, obviously in agreement with Aaron. "I don't know. I guess he was in the right place at the right time. He came here with a bunch of other people, looking for help from FEMA. Then the government left, as well as most of those people. A few decided to stay. Gregory kind of slid into that leadership role, told the people what they wanted to hear, got the walls built, claimed the Barrington house as his, and, well, here we are today."

Aaron was feeling defeated. He just wanted one thing to go his way. Maybe Paul saw the anguish in his face, because he sighed deep and looked toward the pickup truck, a plan forming in his mind. "Alright, we'll make an acceptation. There's a spot around back that I think will make a nice resting place."

Aaron smiled with relief. It was one less thing to worry about. "Thanks. If you need me to speak with Gregory or–"

"I'm not going to Gregory on this one. I'm making the decision. He can take it up with me if he doesn't like it," Paul said. "So let's pull the truck around back. I'll show you the place."

As they went to the truck, Paul stopped a couple people, the same men that helped him earlier, and asked them to help him accomplish something without Gregory's consent. The men seemed glad to do it, obviously not fans of their leader.

The spot Paul told Aaron about was out of the way and quiet. It was close to the wall with a line of hedges on one side. "This is nice," Aaron commented. "Maggie will like it." He turned to the truck and stared at the covered bodies of his friends. It was still difficult to believe they were gone. It was even harder to accept the way they died. Aaron couldn't shake the feeling that something needed to be done, but Paul was right that he might cause more harm than good. Still, the need was stronger than the outcome. His biggest fear was having to do for Daryl what he was doing for Glenn and Abraham.

"You don't have to do this," Paull offered. "We'll get the graves dug. Why don't you go back to the house and check on Maggie. I know you're worried about her."

"I want to help. I feel like I need to do this," Aaron said.

"Alright," Paul agreed with a smile.

* * *

The graves were dug and the bodies placed within each one. Paul had recruited a few more men to help, and they were finished quickly. The men seemed happy to help. Aaron noticed the respect they held for Maggie. They had heard of the way she stood up to Gregory the first time she came to Hilltop. Aaron thought that they seemed to wish Gregory was more like Maggie leadership wise. He had to agree. He'd recently seen her strength and ability to take over even during a difficult situation.

By the time Aaron and Paul made their way back to the foyer, Sasha was standing outside of the exam room with the doctor. They looked up and waited for him to approach. Doctor Carson smiled, and it was a welcome sight. "I'm glad you're here," the doctor said. "The good news is that Maggie and the baby are alright."

"Oh thank God," Aaron said, relieved to hear. "What's the bad news?"

"Well, it seems that the cause of her pain is due to the placenta separating from the uterus. It's called placental abruption, usually cause by some kind of trauma, such as a car accident. Now, I've talked to Maggie, and she told me that her and Carol were taken hostage a while ago, and that one of the Savior women violently kicked her. I saw the bruises on her back and abdomen, and I'm fairly sure that's when the damage was done. My suggestion is that she should stay at Hilltop for the remainder of her pregnancy. As long as she takes it easy and doesn't do anything too strenuous, she should be able to carry to full term. But just in case something goes wrong, she'll already be here for me to help her."

"And what does Maggie think of this?" Aaron asked.

Sasha answered. "We talked, and she's agreed to stay. The problem lies with Gregory. Doctor Carson says he's not sure Gregory will allow it."

"I'll talk to him," Paul said.

"Thank you," Sasha smiled.

"How's Maggie now?" Aaron wondered. "Can I see her?"

"She's sleeping. Better to let her rest," Doctor Carson suggested. "I want her to stay in the infirmary for a couple days for observation."

"I'm sure you're in need of some rest too," Paul said to Sasha. "I've got a trailer you can use."

Sasha shook her head. "I'm staying with Maggie." She was firm on her decision.

"Aaron?" Paul offered.

"I don't want to put you out," Aaron said. He still hadn't made up his mind whether or not he was staying.

"You won't be. I never use the place. I'm not usually here long enough to settle in, and I just stay in one of the guest rooms in the great house." Paul glanced at Aaron and Sasha. "If you want to get cleaned up, you can use the bathroom in the house. It's on the second floor and half way down the hall. If you give me a minute, I'll find some clothes for Sasha from one of the women. Aaron, we're about the same size. Help yourself to my clothes. I've got to go speak with Gregory, and then I need to check on a few things. As far as I'm concerned, you're more than welcome here."

"Thank you, Jesus," Sasha smiled at him kindly. It felt good knowing someone was on their side. Then she looked at Aaron. "Why don't you go first."

Aaron looked down at his dirt covered arms. He must look a mess after digging the graves. "Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that."

"Good," Paul said, glad to know he was helping. "I'm going to find a cot and have it brought to the infirmary for Sasha, or I'd take you to the house. Do you remember where to go?"

"Yeah," Aaron said. He remembered his way around from his first visit to Hilltop.

"Great. I'll catch up with you later." Paul gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Aaron nodded in agreement and watched Paul leave. When it was just the two of them, Sasha approached him and gave him a hug. "It's going to be alright," she comforted him. "We're going to get him back." She was speaking of Daryl, of course. Obviously, Aaron's anguish hadn't gone unnoticed, and with everyone worried about Maggie, the subject of Daryl hadn't come up.

Aaron made his way upstairs and down the hall to Paul's room. It was small, just a bed, a chest of drawers, a chair and a table. The bed was neatly made. Paul's coat was hung over the back of a chair, and his cap and gloves were on the seat. There were only a few personal belongings in the room, a stack of books in the corner, a bracelet made of wooden beads and twine, a picture of two young men leaning against a tree, smiling at the camera. It looked like Paul spent hardly any time here, just as he'd said. Aaron went to the dresser and found a shirt and pants.

He made his way into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked worn, beat, defeated. Aaron wondered how he was still managing to keep going. People talked about getting a second wind, but he felt as though he didn't have so much as a wisp for a whistle left.

For the first time, he noticed a dull pain at the back of his head. When he reached up, he felt a bump, and remembered being hit by the butt of a gun. He'd been trying to get help for Maggie and spoke one too many times. He remembered the look of concern on Daryl's face as he watched, helpless to do anything. It was a much different expression from the one he'd earned from Daryl after finding out Paul took him to Alexandria. Daryl had been furious when he came back, after losing Denise, and Aaron wasn't there. So much hate and mistrust reflected in those eyes. The same eyes had watched him across the forest floor, full of apology and fear, sorrow and love. The hate was nonexistent. That had only been a reaction, not Daryl's true feelings. They hadn't had a chance to talk it out and make up. Both of them ended up at Negan's mercy. Now Daryl was gone again, and Aaron feared for what would become of him. The only reassurance came from Paul, who said Negan was good to his word. If Daryl was collateral then that's all he was. It didn't mean he wouldn't be tortured or taken to the brink of death. It was all too much to think about and not a good idea to dwell it on while he was alone. Aaron turned back to his image in the mirror, took a deep breath and cleared his mind for now.

After his shower, Aaron made his way back to the infirmary. There was now a cot in one corner, and Sasha was sitting on it, a pile of folded clothes on her lap. She looked lost in thought, overcome with sadness, and frustrated. Aaron understood. He felt the same way. For the first time they had no plan, no advantage. Negan had destroyed their whole group. Who was to say he wasn't doing that to Daryl right now? Aaron pushed the thoughts aside when Sasha glanced up at him.

"The shower's all yours," he told her. "It's not hot water like at home, but warm enough not to freeze."

"At this point I don't care. I just want to feel clean again," she said as she got up holding her change of clothes. "Want to show me where to go?"

"Yeah, no problem." Aaron looked at Maggie. "How is she?"

"I don't think she's waking up any time soon. Dr. Carson gave her a sedative too. I'm glad he did that or she'd be up and trying to work a plan."

"Yeah," Aaron said, smiling as he looked at her sleeping form.

As they walked to the house, Aaron asked, "So what are we doing?"

"For now, we're taking care of Maggie and making sure she has a place here. Paul's talking Gregory into letting her stay. I'm staying with her no matter what. As for you, you'll have to decide what you want to do."

"I already know what I want to do. I want to get Daryl back," Aaron said determinedly.

"I know, but is that really the right thing to do? Jesus made a good point about getting caught sneaking into the Saviors compound. If you're caught–"

"I won't get caught," Aaron said. "I used to sneak around all the time when I went on recruiting missions. I had to get in close enough to hear conversations without anyone knowing that I was listening. Remember? You and Maggie didn't know I was there until I walked out in front of you."

Sasha laughed. "I remember. Clean shaven, handsome man in flannel and kakis popped out of nowhere and said, 'Hi, I'm Aaron.'"

Aaron laughed too. "Yeah, you should have seen your faces."

"I could have shot you. Maggie too."

"But you didn't, thank goodness," Aaron said. "The fact is, you never knew I was there. I can do it again. I can get into their compound and find Daryl."

"You don't know where their compound is, and you don't know what it looks like." Sasha shook her head. "I don't know, Aaron. It's your decision, but I think you'd be making a huge mistake. Just give it a few days. Wait until Maggie's out of trouble like Dr. Carson said. I'd feel better if you did."

"Alright," he said, but he was defiant in his answer.

* * *

The next few days passed uneventful. Paul talked Gregory into letting them stay until Maggie was better, but he insisted that as soon as she was stable, they all needed to leave Hilltop. When Aaron approached Paul on the matter, he said he had to choose his battles with Gregory. It seemed that every conversation with Gregory was a battle of one kind or another.

Aaron was resting in the trailer, trying to get some sleep, but dreams kept his slumber light. They weren't so much dreams as they were memories of recent events. Daryl was all he could think of, and Aaron tossed and turned with despair. He didn't know how much longer he could sit around not doing anything to get him back. They always watched out for each other. Whether they were fighting off walkers or bad people, they had each other's backs. It had been that way since they met, and it had always been that way. Wouldn't Daryl be expecting him soon? Aaron couldn't leave him with the Saviors and not try to get him out. Everyone kept telling him they would find Daryl soon, but no one was coming up with a plan.

Aaron remembered what Paul told him, about costing people their lives if he was caught trying to save Daryl. That was the only thing stopping him at the moment. He just needed a plan, but that was difficult to come up with when you were going blindly into a new place. The only plan he had was to get Daryl home, and do whatever necessary to accomplish that goal.

A couple hours must have passed by when there was a soft knock at the door. Aaron sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The door opened slightly, and Paul poked his head in. "Hey, I was seeing if you were up."

"Yeah. Didn't sleep much anyway."

Paul came into the room. "Maggie's awake. Thought you'd want to know."

"Great. Thanks," Aaron said as he stood from the bed.

"You sure you're okay?" Paul said as he looked him over with a skeptical eye.

"Sleep is overrated," Aaron jested. It was time to put on a front and face whatever the rest of the day had in store for him.

Maggie was sitting on the exam table, and Doctor Carson was giving her a few instructions. She smiled when she saw Aaron enter the room, stood from the table went to hug him. She still seemed weak, but better than she had been when they first arrived a few days ago.

"How are you feeling?" Aaron asked her.

"Better … considering. What about you? How are you holding up?" she asked in return.

"Ready to tear my hair out, but okay overall."

"I want to see the graves," Maggie said. Obviously she'd been thinking about it for a while now.

Aaron shook his head. "I'm not so sure you should–"

"Please," she begged, and Aaron knew he couldn't deny her.

They looked at Doctor Carson for resistance, but he shrugged his shoulders and gestured toward the door. He must have already seen Maggie's determination, Aaron thought. "Just take it easy," the doctor warned.

Aaron led Maggie and Sasha to the graves. Maggie knelt down and put her hand on the fresh dirt. She stayed that way for a while, silently praying for her lost love. Sasha stood next to her, looking at the other grave, the one that held Abraham. Aaron knew they had just recently become a couple, but in that short amount of time, they had shared a special bond. Sasha would mourn Abraham's death, but in a different way than Maggie, and right now, she was there for Maggie in any way needed.

Sasha took something out of her pocket and gave it to Maggie. Aaron recognized it as Glenn's pocket watch, a gift from Maggie's father. She'd told him the whole beautiful story once. Hershel would have been someone Aaron thought he would have liked to have known. Damn this cruel world.

Maggie kissed the watch and laid in on the grave. They knew they couldn't mark them with names, but they could leave small mementos instead. Paul appeared, carrying a bouquet of flowers he'd just picked. He divided them and laid flowers on both graves before taking a step back. Everyone was silent while the women mourned. Aaron looked over at Paul, and found him already looking back at him. Paul gave him a smile before his eyes turned to the ground.

The solitude was broken when Gregory came out of a nearby door and marched up to them. He didn't look too happy, Aaron noticed. Maggie and Sasha stood and regained their composure, ready for whatever Gregory had to give.

"What's this?" he said looking at the fresh graves.

"We buried our people, my husband," Maggie said. She was instantly on the defense.

"We don't bury our dead. They should have been burned like all the rest. Who gave you the–"

"I did," Paul spoke up, challenging Gregory.

"And what if the Saviors come snooping around, and want to know why we have outsiders buried here?" Gregory said.

"The graves are unmarked," Maggie said squaring off with the man.

Gregory turned to Maggie, getting in her face. "What happened to our deal? You said you were going to take out ALL the Saviors."

"Well, someone forgot to mention that the compound we hit was only a small portion of their size," Maggie scowled.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Gregory said. "Most I've seen come to Hilltop was about fifteen or twenty. If you want someone to blame, blame Jesus. He's the one who gave you the numbers."

"I didn't know any more than you did," Paul defended himself.

Gregory was outnumbered, but his attention was still on Maggie. "What did you tell them? Do they know we were working together?"

Maggie was fed up with Gregory's lack of concern for anyone but himself. "We didn't say anything. We took the brunt of the storm and people died. Hilltop's numbers remain the same."

Gregory looked around at the angry faces surrounding him. "Good. That's good. So here's what you're going to do. You're going to burn these bodies and then you're going to leave Hilltop. I want you gone by morning. We're expecting the Saviors any day. Last thing I need is for them to find Alexandria people here.

Aaron finally spoke up to defend the women. "You can't do that. Doctor Carson said Maggie needs to stay here until the baby comes. She's suffered serious injury and–"

"If the Saviors find you here, they will kill me and burn down my house," Gregory said, gesturing to the building behind him. "It's not worth the risk for a pregnant, loud mouthed, disrespectful–"

Maggie's pugnacious expression was enough to make Aaron go to her and hold her by the arm. Gregory was about to learn never make a pregnant woman angry. "Why you son of a–" she loathed.

"You've got until morning," Gregory said, and he stepped aside to clear a path for them to leave.

"Come on," Aaron whispered to Maggie, and he led her from the yard back into the house. Sasha followed, but he saw Paul hesitate in front of Gregory.

"We're not done discussing this," Paul threatened. Gregory gave him an arrogant smile.

Back in the house, Aaron was insisting that Maggie take the trailer, but she was refusing. "It has a kitchen, a table, a couch and a bed," Aaron tried to convince her.

"Then where are you going to stay?" she argued.

He wanted to tell her he was leaving to find Daryl, but he couldn't let her know. He didn't like lying to her. She trusted him because of their honesty with each other. "I don't know. I'll find a room somewhere. It's only for one night."

"Jesus said he's going to work something out with Gregory," Sasha said, thinking that the reason it was only for one night was because Gregory told them they had to leave in the morning.

Aaron decided to use that to his advantage. "Whether he works something out or not, I should probably get back to Alexandria. Look, Gregory doesn't want us here. With one less of us to worry about, maybe it will help persuade him."

"He can have my room," Paul interrupted after coming in from the yard.

"What? No, I can't do that," Aaron declined.

"It's only for one night. I'll bunk up somewhere else," Paul said, and Aaron thought he meant Alex.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely," Paul smiled.

Maggie was suddenly a bit wobbly on her feet. Sasha put an arm around her waist and said to Paul, "She needs to lay down."

"Take her to my trailer," Paul said. "I'll bring you all some supplies." He dashed off to gather the necessities, and Aaron and Sasha took Maggie to the trailer.

Once there, Maggie took a seat on the couch. Sasha looked around, searching the kitchen cabinets and the fridge. "Hey, there's milk in–"

"The fridge works?" Maggie interrupted.

"Yeah," Aaron answered. "Paul said this was one of the few trailers whose solar panels still worked.

It wasn't long and Paul arrived with a wooden crate filled with food and topped with a couple sets of sheets and blankets. Sasha ran to him and took the bed linens to help lighten his load. She instantly started making the bed, and put the extra sheets on the couch where she was obviously going to sleep. Sasha would not leave Maggie's side.

Maggie got up from the couch and started rifling through the box of food. She took out an apple and devoured it in just a few bites. With a mouthful, she noticed Paul and Aaron watching her with surprise. "I think my only problem right now is that I haven't eaten in a while."

Paul glanced at Aaron and smiled. They were both thinking the same thing. Her ravenous appetite was proof that she was feeling much better, and that the baby was safe for now.

Maggie pulled out and examined the food Paul brought, as though she was looking for something. "There's milk in the fridge. Do you have any cereal?"

"Maybe," Paul said. "I can check. What kind–"

"Doesn't matter. I've got a craving for it, if you have any," she said sweetly.

"Wanna go with me?" Paul asked Aaron.

"Sure," he agreed. They stepped towards the door, but Sasha stopped Paul with a hand on his arm.

"I'm worried about taking her back to Alexandria. She really needs to stay here. Can you talk sense into Gregory? Tell him he doesn't need to worry about us. I'll earn Maggie's keep and go out scavenging for both of us if he's worried about supplies."

Paul smiled warmly and put his hand on Sasha's arm. "I'll handle Gregory. You're not going anywhere, and you don't need to scavenge. We have plenty of supplies." He paused and looked at Maggie, who was opening two cans of soup. He laughed. "Even enough for a pregnant woman."

"Thank you," Sasha said, the worry already seeming to disappear from her countenance.

Aaron followed Paul out of the trailer. As they headed back towards the house, people stopped them and asked about Maggie's welfare. Each person who approached them seemed genuinely concerned for her. Aaron was amazed by the friendly reception, which was complete opposite of Gregory's disapproval.

"Well, bless her little heart," said one woman when Paul told her about Maggie's misfortunes. She was an older woman, probably in her early sixties. "I'm going to make her a pie, and you can tell her that. I know it's not much, but I want her to feel welcome, especially if she's going to be staying with us."

"Thank you, Mrs. Grant. I'm sure she'll be very grateful," Paul said with a kind smile.

"I may be old, but I remember what it was like to be pregnant, and I had five children, God rest their souls," Mrs. Grant said. Aaron felt a pang of hurt. She must have lost her family during the outbreak. "And who is this handsome young man?" she asked, as she looked at Aaron. His thoughts of love and loss disintegrated when she addressed him.

"This is Aaron," Paul introduced him. "He came with Maggie and Sasha from Alexandria." Paul smiled at him as he spoke.

Mrs. Grant watched the look on Paul's face a moment before her eyes switched to Aaron. "It is very nice to meet you." She shook his hand, and Aaron noticed her firm grip.

"Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Grant," Aaron responded kindly.

She waved a hand at him. "Please, call me Alice. Everyone else does, except Jesus. Such a sweet and respectful man, and not to mention handsome, don't you think?"

Paul blushed like Aaron had never seen him do before. "Mrs. Grant," he complained.

Alice turned her attention back to Aaron after she was satisfied with the amount of fluster she caused. "Will you be staying with us too, Aaron?"

"Oh, well, uh, I should probably get back to Alexandria. They'll be wondering about Maggie and all," Aaron answered.

"You're not staying tonight?" Paul asked. They hadn't discussed it yet.

"I don't know. I haven't given it much thought, and space is limited," Aaron said.

"I told you it's no problem to have you stay at my place," Paul offered. Aaron saw Alice smile from the corner of his eye.

"I … I'm not so sure that's–" Aaron stammered.

"I'll leave you two to discuss sleeping arrangements," Alice grinned. "Again, nice to meet you," she said to Aaron. She caught him with her eyes, and then suggestively swept them over to Paul. Was she trying to set them up?

"Likewise, Mrs. Gr . . . Uh, Alice," Aaron corrected himself.

Paul watched her walk away, and when she was out of earshot, he spoke. "I'm sorry about that. She means well."

"It's okay. I like her," Aaron said.

"Anyway, as I was saying, you can take my room," Paul offered.

"Oh, I don't want you to have to–"

"No, it's okay, really. I insist," Paul said.

Aaron couldn't turn him down. "I ... l guess so."

"Good. It's settled then. Now let's go find Maggie her cereal."

"Are you going to be able to convince Gregory to let the girls stay?" Aaron asked as they walked to the house. If he was leaving, he wanted to know they would be alright and cared for.

"He might change his tune when I tell him how many people already think their staying. Last thing he wants is to look bad in front of his people. Don't worry. Maggie and Sasha are staying," Paul said with confidence.

* * *

That evening, Aaron went to Paul's room in the great house, and settled into bed. It was a fairly comfortable bed, but he couldn't enjoy himself knowing that Daryl was still out there somewhere. He couldn't enjoy much of anything without Daryl, and sleep seemed to escape him too. He tossed and turned, but his thoughts always went back to Daryl.

"This is ridiculous," he told himself. "I can't just sit here and do nothing." He started to devise a plan. "I need to head out there, and see if I can pick up a trail and find out where Daryl is." He wasn't the best at tracking, but he'd learned from the best. Daryl had taught him everything he knew, and he would put all of that knowledge to use. It couldn't be that difficult. There were maybe a hundred men, some with cars or trucks, some on foot. Surely, he'd be able to find a trail easily. But with that thought, he realized that the Saviors weren't worried about leaving a trail because there were so many of them. Only a fool would try to take them on in their own territory. Aaron didn't want to fight them, though. He just wanted Daryl back. His biggest worry was stealth. No matter what, he couldn't get caught. He was afraid Paul was right. If Aaron was caught it would mean both his and Daryl's deaths, not to mention the death of more Alexandrians when Negan showed up to punish them. He felt reason slowly talking himself out of making a move.

Somehow, he managed to fall asleep, but he wasn't sure for how long. He was awakened by a soft knock on the door. Aaron thought it must be Paul coming to check on him. He got up and threw on his shirt and pants in a hurry. Another knock sounded as he made his way to the door. As he turned the knob and pulled, he spoke. "If you're wondering how I'm doing, I'm just about to–" Aaron cut his words short when he looked up and saw that it wasn't Paul at the door. It was Alex.

"Oh, uh, you're not Paul," Alex said awkwardly.

"No. At least not the last time I checked," Aaron joked. That only gained him a look of confusion.

Alex glanced down and saw that Aaron's disheveled clothes meant he'd gotten dressed quickly. He looked over Aaron's shoulder, trying to see into the darkened room. "Is … Paul … here?" Alex asked. He seemed afraid to know the answer to his own question.

Aaron, who always jested when he was in an uncomfortable or embarrassing situation, laughed nervously and rolled his eyes up. "Well, if you've been talking to Mrs. Grant . . ." Aaron decided not to continue that sentence. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Paul is'nt here. I'm … I'm Aaron, by the way. We haven't been properly introduced."

"I know who you are," Alex stated. "Everyone is talking about it. And I guess you know I'm Alex."

"Yeah," Aaron said, palming the back of his neck. It was such a strange introduction. At the last moment, he offered his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Alex shook his hand, but it didn't feel sincere. "Yeah, you too."

"I'm afraid I don't know where Paul is. He let me have his room for the night. My friends are staying in his trailer."

"I hear they might be staying for a while," Alex said.

"Yeah, if Gregory agrees to it. Maggie, well, you'd already know her story, wouldn't you," Aaron said, realizing that Alex was Doctor Carson's nurse.

"Mind if I come in?" Alex asked, but he was already pushing his way past Aaron before he could answer.

"I guess not," Aaron mumbled.

Alex glanced around the small guest room. Aaron felt like he needed to see for himself that Paul wasn't inside. Surely he didn't think something was going on between Paul and Aaron. Satisfied that it was only Aaron in the room, Alex turned to him with a more relaxed look on his face. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened to your friends … Maggie's husband … what a tragic thing to happen, and with her pregnant."

"I think we're all still shook up. It almost doesn't seem real. Anyway, thanks," Aaron said.

"So, will you be staying at the Hilltop too?" Alex said, fishing for information.

"I'm leaving in the morning. I need to get back to Alexandria." Or go rogue and try to find Daryl, he thought.

"Will Paul be escorting you back to your home?" Alex asked.

"I don't know. It hasn't come up in conversation. I don't think he needs to do that. I know my way back," Aaron answered.

"You might want to tell him that. He has a tendency to want to be everyone's guardian." Alex came the rest of the way into the room and took a seat on the unmade bed. "Hmm," he said, glancing at the bed. "This would be a first."

"What's that?" Aaron asked curiously.

"Paul doesn't like anyone in his room when he's not here," Alex said with accusation.

"It was kind of last minute. And it's only for one night. I'm sure I'm leaving tomorrow." Aaron glanced at the window seeing that it was still dark outside. "Or today." He didn't know what time it was.

"Look, I think we both recognize the amount of tension here, so I'm just going to come out and address the elephant in the room," Alex said. "You need to be careful with Paul. He's a very honest, sweet, loyal guy who, once he puts his mind to it, will do all he can to help others, especially those he takes a liking to."

"Excuse me?" Aaron said, feeling his defenses going up. Where exactly was this conversation going?

"When I said I knew who you were, I meant that I've heard your name mentioned several times. Ever since Paul, and don't think I haven't noticed that you call him by his real name … Ever since he discovered Alexandria, it's all he talks about, at least to me. He tells me what a great community it is, and how strong their leader is, and how Hilltop needs to establish a good relationship with them. And then there's you, Alexandria's recruiter, the boy scout, the nice guy, the guy who can do no wrong."

"Whoa, what are you saying?" Aaron replied out of instinct, throwing his hands up in submission.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? Paul has a hard on for you," Alex admitted bluntly.

"Wait just a minute," Aaron said defensively.

"And yes, he knows you have a boyfriend, and that there's little chance you'd see him as anything but a friend. But I've seen how he lights up when he mentions you by name. I've seen him rush out of here when he knows he's going to meet your people, in hopes that you'll be there too. He hasn't said it out loud, but I've seen it in his eyes, and heard it in his voice. He's willing to do whatever it takes to help Alexandria, but most of all you, and it scares me to death. I'm afraid he's going to put himself out there for you, and it's going to go too far."

Aaron was dumbfounded by this confession, but Alex's last sentence sparked anger in him. He couldn't let it slide by. "You're afraid it's going to cost Paul? You can sit there and say this to me when it was my people who just put themselves out there for the Hilltop, and it cost two of them their lives. Shall I explain to you what a bat wrapped in barb wire does to the human skull? Would you like to know how many hits it take until the head is nothing more than mush, and blood and brains? Or maybe you'd like me to tell you in detail how the body still moves and convulses even after the person is obviously dead. I know all of these things because I was there front and center, watching my friends die. And my 'boyfriend' that you mentioned, was taken by these brutal murders. He's being held captive until we give Negan half our stuff. So you want to talk about being scared? I'm beyond worried for what's being done to him at this very moment. I've been second guessing my choice to even be here right now, when deep down in my heart I know I should be out there doing everything I can to find him and bring him home. And you want to sit here and accuse me of having something to do with Paul's irrational behavior, as though I'm responsible for his feelings towards me, which I'm convinced is something you've conjured up in your mind. You know what? You're right about Paul. He's a good man. He's honest. He's loyal. He's also willing to put himself out there because he wants to be out from under Negan's thumb. He's willing to do what it takes to make that happen instead of bowing down and being Negan's bitch. People make sacrifices when they want something bad enough. And then there's those who would rather sit around and wallow in self-pity. So if you're jealous because you can't keep your man in your bed, just remember what he's out there fighting for, and stop laying the blame on someone else."

While Aaron berated him, Alex covered his hand over his mouth, letting his fem side show for the first time. He probably didn't think Aaron would fire back. Now he knew what he was dealing with, and he had no words to give back in response. Aaron threw his hands in the air and stormed out of Paul's room, leaving Alex befuddled and staring at him as he left.

Once outside, Aaron realized that it must be late. There wasn't anyone roaming around the yard and most of the occupied trailers were dark. The stars were out, but the moon was low in the sky. There were probably several hours left before sunrise. Aaron struggled with the idea of finding Daryl. What the hell was he doing here besides helping Maggie and Sasha? They were two strong women. They could help each other. And Maggie looked so much better than she did when they first arrived. He didn't need some whiny jealous boyfriend accusing him of the same thing Daryl had accused him of before all hell broke loose. And what gave them the idea in the first place. Paul was a friend and nothing more.

"This is all bullshit," he told himself as he paced the yard. He couldn't go back to Paul's room for fear of running into Alex. That would not bode well for the man should he want to challenge Aaron again. There was no room for him in Maggie's trailer. Besides, he noted that theirs was dark too, and Maggie needed sleep more than anything right now. "I'm going," he said. "Enough is enough. I can't stand not doing anything. Daryl needs me. To hell with everything else."

He had no belongings with him. The Saviors had taken his knife and his gun. His pack was in the RV that was now with the Saviors. All he had was himself, hope, a prayer, and whatever tracking smarts Daryl taught him. A weapon would be nice, though. He shouldn't head out without something. Hilltop didn't have any guns, but they had knives. The blacksmith shop would have something. Part of the building was open to the air. He remembered seeing knives hanging on a back wall. He'd just grab one, maybe two and disappear. Maggie would understand. So would Sasha. Both of them had seen his intense worry because both had tried to comfort him. When they woke in the morning and found him gone, they would know where he went. They might not like it, but they would understand.

Aaron walked to the blacksmith and pushed the half gate open. It made a creaking noise that sounded like a cat in heat, but no one was around to hear it. He went to the wall with the knives and picked out two that seemed the sturdiest, with wooden handles and thick metal blades that were sharp enough to split a single hair in half lengthwise.

"Earl's got some nice pieces there," Paul said from the shadows.

Aaron jumped out of his skin, spun around and had one of the knives at the ready. "Christ, man, give a guy some warning next time."

"Sorry," Paul apologized. "I heard the gate and came to check it out."

"I didn't think anyone was out here," Aaron admitted.

"Neither did I. Except for the gate guards, the yard is empty at this time of night."

Aaron glanced back toward the gate. He'd forgotten about the guards. That didn't seem to matter now. He went back to the knives and started looking around for a holster or something to put them in and keep at his side. Paul stood by and watched him.

"Going somewhere?" he asked. Aaron expected Paul to stop him.

"I'm going after Daryl," Aaron said, sifting through the blacksmiths things. His work bench was cluttered with different bits and pieces.

"What about Maggie and Sasha? I thought you were waiting to see whether or not they could stay."

Aaron paused and looked at Paul. "You said you were talking to Gregory. What did he say?"

"He said yes," Paul said.

Aaron was surprised. "Just like that and he agreed?"

"Well, not exactly, but when I told him how everyone heard about Maggie and her pregnancy, and all the events from earlier, and how they assume he's letting her stay, he had no choice but to say yes," Paul said proudly.

Aaron was glad to hear it. "That makes my decision to leave that much easier."

"How are you going to find the Saviors?" Paul asked calmly, as though he was making polite conversation.

"I'm going back to the woods and tracking them from there," Aaron said, finally finding something he could use. It was a leather belt with a pouch on the side. It was just big enough to hold one of the knives. He would just carry the other.

"Don't you think it would be better to wait until the sun is up?" Paul continued with the questions.

"I'm thinking they left an obvious trail and I'll be able to pick it up easily. Daryl taught me how to track. I know I can find them," Aaron insisted.

"Well, I guess you have to do what you feel is right. I just thought you changed your mind after we talked about the risks involved with going out on your own. But you seem to know what you're doing."

Aaron stopped and turned to Paul. "Don't use your reverse psychology on me. Save it for your jealous boyfriend."

"Wait. What are you talking about?" Paul asked. Now he was concerned.

"Alex paid me a visit. Actually, he was looking for you, but found me instead. I don't think he liked the fact that I was staying in your room. He also accused me of leading you on, among other things. I don't know. Whatever he was trying to pull, it just made me realize that I'm wasting my time here, and if no one else is going to look for Daryl, then I will." Aaron was still on the defensive, and his anger was apparent.

Paul palmed his face and ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't think he would . . . Listen, you can't trust whatever Alex says about me or him. He's upset with me because … well, it's a long story, but … he's my problem, not yours, and if he said something to upset you then I apologize."

Aaron knew he was being sincere, and he could hear the embarrassment in his voice. He'd rather the apology came from Alex, but he wouldn't hold his breath. Aaron attached the belt to his waist and turned to Paul once more. "Do you have a backpack and a few food supplies you could spare?"

"You're still going?" Paul asked.

"I have to," Aaron said determinedly. His mind was made up.

"I wish you wouldn't go, not with anger driving you at the moment. That's when people make mistakes."

"I think I'm acting rationally. I know what's at risk, and that's why I have to go."

Paul stared him down, folded his arms across his chest and flatly said, "No."

"No?" Aaron said, raising his eyebrows. "You can't keep me here."

Paul instantly softened his mood, seeing that aggressiveness would just make matters worse. "Make a deal with me."

Aaron tilted his head to the side, trying to read Paul. "What kind of deal?"

"You let me try to convince you not to go, and if I don't succeed, you leave at sunrise instead of the dark of night."

Aaron was sure that Paul wasn't going to talk him out of going, but if he postponed leaving until morning, that wouldn't be too much of a burden. He was probably right to tell Aaron to wait until the sun was up. He thought about it another moment, and Paul patiently waited for a response. "Alright, fine."

"Great. So … how about I show you a place that only the special tour groups got to see when they visited Barrington House. And by special, I mean they paid more than other people," Paul said.

"Well, I'm not going back upstairs, and I'm not falling asleep any time soon. Where is this place?" Aaron asked with curiosity.

"It's through the kitchen. There's a narrow stairway that leads to a trap door in the roof. I think it was used in revolutionary times, or something like that. Supposedly, a person could sneak up to the roof and be a look out or even a sniper. There's a clear view of the entire property and the lands leading up to the hill. The people of the house could be alerted in plenty of time before an enemy approached. We've used it for that reason too, but sometimes I just like to head up there to get away without going away, if you know what I mean. And it's a hell of a spot to see the sunrise."

"We'll see," Aaron said skeptically. Paul glanced down at the knives. "I'm keeping these," Aaron stated, and he followed Paul to the house.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41 Waiting for the Sun to Rise**

Aaron had just been awakened by Paul's jealous boyfriend, accused of having an affair with him, and being reckless with Paul's kindness. Meanwhile, Aaron was questioning his own decision to let people convince him it wasn't time to help Daryl yet, and that he shouldn't worry about getting him back. He had reached his last straw with everyone when Alex thought he'd take a verbal swing. Aaron came back on the defensive and gave Alex hell before storming out of the great house. He'd finally decided to take matters into his own hands and go after Daryl. No one else was doing anything about it. While looking through the blacksmith shop for a weapon of any kind, Paul surprised him, further demonstrating his stealth and ability to move around without being detected. Paul had somehow convinced Aaron to wait until the sun was up before he left Hilltop to go and find the Saviors compound where Daryl was being held captive. Now Paul was taking Aaron to his hideaway to wait for the sunrise.

Paul led the way through the kitchen, heading toward the back where there was a pocket door Aaron hadn't noticed before. There was a set of shelves on either side, and it didn't really draw the eye. Paul stopped before he reached the door and sifted through a large lidded basket pushed into a corner. He took out a bottle of liquor and two tin cups, the kind that came with a camping kit. They were dented and one was missing its handle. The liquor, on the other hand, looked to be a brand of very old Scotch.

"I didn't know you drank," Aaron said. Paul was very fit, and was usually on high alert at all times. Alcohol would dampen his senses.

"Not a lot, but once in a while. It helps me relax. Thought you could use it too," Paul suggested. He slid the door open and stepped through. "Close that behind you," he said.

Aaron followed and as he closed the door, Paul struck a match and lit an oil lantern that was hanging on a hook on the wall. The light revealed an iron ladder that went straight up. There was nothing else in this confined area. It was set in brick, separate from the rest of the house, and smelled of stale smoke from the fireplace. Paul started up the steps and Aaron carefully followed. If it wasn't for Paul, Aaron would think twice about climbing the old ladder.

"From the outside of the house, you see two chimneys, one on each side of the house. Both are real, but this one is only half chimney. The other half houses this ladder, where we are right now," Paul informed him.

"Smart," Aaron commented as he followed Paul. It was three floors of climbing a ladder straight up, and he was a bit winded when they reached the top. The door to the outside was half as tall as a regular door. Paul struggled to open it, as it rubbed against the floor of the roof. Years of warping made it this way.

They stepped out into the open. Aaron looked back at the stack of bricks they just emerged from. It looked much bigger up close than from the ground. "What's that?" he asked pointing to a white gazebo shaped structure between the chimneys.

"That used to be a bell tower when the house was first built. Somewhere along the way, it was closed in, and windows installed," Paul said.

"Now it's a guard tower," Aaron noticed.

"Yeah, but we don't use it for that."

"Why not?" Aaron asked. "It's the perfect place to put a sniper–"

"If we had guns," Paul reminded him. "We use guards at the top of the wall now. It works well enough. Besides the Saviors, we don't get many visitors to Hilltop."

"This is a waste of a space," Aaron said, thinking of how useful a tower like this was.

"Not exactly. This is my hideaway. Occasionally I keep watch from up here, but for the most part, I like to come to read or meditate."

"Or to hide from people," Aaron pointed out.

"That too," Paul smiled sheepishly. He showed Aaron the door on the backside of the tower, opened it and gestured for him to enter.

It wasn't very big, maybe twelve foot from one side to the other, but it was enough for two or three people to sit comfortably. There were beanbags piled up on one side, a small glass top side table that one might find on a patio, and a stack of books.

"Cozy," Aaron said.

"I think it is. Make yourself comfortable," Paul suggested.

"Bean bags?" Aaron smiled. It had been years since he'd seen any. He used to have one in his room when he was a kid.

"You saw the stairs. I don't think I could get a recliner up here," Paul joked.

"I see your point."

Paul turned the lantern flame down low and set it on the table. He gave Aaron a tin cup and put the other one next to the lantern. Then he opened the half full bottle of Scotch and poured a little into each cup. Meanwhile, Aaron moved a couple beanbag chairs around and had a seat. Surprisingly, it was rather comfortable. It dawned on Aaron the reason why Paul gave him his room. "You were going to stay up here tonight, weren't you?"

Paul nodded. "Sometimes I sleep up here." He pulled a couple bags away from the others and sat across from Aaron. The table was between them so they could reach the bottle.

They sipped their scotch, each man being careful with their consumption. Neither one wanted to drink too much. In that way, Paul and Aaron were similar. They both had a need to be on call all the time.

"I want to apologize again for Alex's behavior," Paul said after a long silence. "He had no right to accuse you of anything. Actually, I had no idea he felt that way."

"He doesn't know me," Aaron said to justify. "He doesn't know I'm already involved with someone. All he sees is another gay man during a shortage of them," Aaron smiled. "To be honest, Daryl wasn't exactly pleased when you came along either."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed that," Paul said as a jest, but it was true. "And he had good reason. I … I'll admit that when I first met you, when Rick was interrogating me . . . This is embarrassing, but … I was flirting … with you."

Aaron felt his face flush hot, and not just from the warmth that the Scotch had created under his skin. "Yeah, I kind of noticed that," Aaron said, returning Paul's exact words. "Daryl noticed too. That and the fact that you stole that truck loaded with supplies was enough to get you a permanent place on his shit list."

Paul laughed, and the tension seemed to melt away. Aaron didn't want to talk about Daryl for the moment. It would be too easy to let his guilty feelings move back in. He threw the conversation back to Paul and said, "I guess Alex, like Daryl, doesn't approve of our friendship."

"I can't really blame him," Paul said. "I'm gone for long periods of time, and he doesn't know what I'm doing out there. It wasn't ever a problem until I brought you to Hilltop."

That had been a problem for Daryl too, but the story was too recent, as Aaron thought of Daryl mouthing apologies from across the forest floor while Negan prowled around them. "I guess things aren't all rainbows and sunshine for you and Alex."

"There's that complication again. It's a long story." Paul was hesitant to talk about it, but Aaron wanted to know.

"And we've got until sunrise to fill in the silence," Aaron said. "Start with how you came to Hilltop."

"There's not much to tell. Like a lot of people, I was going from place to place, looking for something promising. I came across Hilltop, and they let me stay. By the time I got here, Gregory had already assumed the leadership role. I don't know how that happened except that no one else wanted the job," Paul said.

"I get the feeling not a lot of people agree with him, but none are willing to challenge him," Aaron noticed. "Have you ever considered–"

"I did … once … but, well, let's just say Gregory's got his fingers dug in pretty far."

Aaron wasn't sure what he meant by that. Gregory was weak. He was frightened. With the right person, Gregory could be knocked down from his throne. "I've seen how the people react to you. They like you. They respect you. That's half the battle right there."

"I think I'm more useful as a scout. I've got stealth. I can get in and out of a tight situation if I need to. The people of Hilltop depend on me in a different way, and I feel like I'm doing something when I bring them things they need, or when I have information that can help out the community. To sit behind a desk and hand out instructions for other people to carry out just isn't me."

"It doesn't have to be like that. Rick's not like that. He's out there with his people. Gregory should be too, but he's selfish and arrogant. Most of all, he's scared because he knows where the blame lies if the Saviors aren't happy. And I think he'd throw his own people at them in order to save his skin," Aaron said.

Paul smiled and laughed with a huff. "This is why you're Alexandria's recruiter. You can read people really well."

"Gregory's not hard to read. You, on the other hand, are a lot more difficult. I get the feeling there's more than you're telling me."

"That might be true, but it's all I want to share for now. Maybe some other day," Paul admitted.

"That's fair." Aaron took another sip of his drink and settled further into his bean bags, crossing his ankles as he stretched out. "So, tell me about Alex. How did you meet?" The scotch was making him brave.

"Let's see. Well, I had been at Hilltop for about a week, and I'd been on a couple scouting missions with the run crew. I discovered rather quickly that I didn't much care for the way they did things. They took too many risks, and that's always a bad thing. I tried working with them, but they'd been doing things their own way for too long. The last time I went out with them, we ran into trouble. They don't work like you and Rick and the rest. They're not as willing to jump in, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I ended up popping my shoulder out of its socket when I fell on it. We'd almost been overrun, and I didn't have time to take care of it myself, so as soon as we got back to the Hilltop, I went to the infirmary. Dr. Carson was making his rounds with some of the elderly residents, but there was this cute RN who helped me get my arm back in joint." Paul smiled as he talked about Alex, and for the first time, Aaron saw that there really was some kind of admiration between them. "We hit it off and he invited me to join him for dinner, and to check on my shoulder. Later, being the gentleman that I am, I offered to walk him back to his room, and in a not so gentlemanly way, I kissed him at the top of the stairs."

"Ah," Aaron smiled. "A whirlwind romance."

Paul almost seemed to blush, but Aaron couldn't tell through all that facial hair. "I guess we moved a little faster than most, but the times are different now. Life's pace has sped up."

"I guess I never realized that you two had a history," Aaron noted. "I just thought he was … you know . . ."

"A booty call?" Paul said for him. "Yeah, I hear people talk, not that it's any of their business. It wasn't like that at first. It was really good. I really do care about him. It's just … he's always here, and I'm always out there. That's how it came to be after the Saviors showed up at our gate. Finding supplies was top priority. We knew when they were coming by to collect, back before we started bringing it to them, and we had to make sure we honored our part of the bargain, or lose more of our people. I felt the responsibility to do what I needed to see to my people's safety. Sometimes I'd be gone for a week or more at a time, just locating supplies. I had to make the decision to sacrifice my relationship with Alex in order to keep peace with the Saviors and protect the people of Hilltop. Because of my decision, we never really got to explore our relationship like a real couple. Alex was always waiting for me when I returned, but … it didn't feel right. I felt like I was holding him down, making him wait for me. It didn't seem fair, and soon the guilt got to me. I started staying away more and more, and coming home less. But I'm a man, and I have needs, and like I said, Alex was always there. It's still like that between us. Alex said he's okay with it and that he'll take me any way he can have me, but … I don't know. I feel like … like I'm just–"

"Leading him on?" Aaron interrupted. Paul looked at him with understanding, as though he'd finally met someone who could relate to his situation. Aaron took it a step further. "That's how I felt about the way I treated Eric."

"You've mentioned him before," Paul said, turning the spotlight on Aaron. "How did you two meet?"

Not feeling shy, Aaron shared with Paul a brief look into his past. "Well, I came to Alexandria, met Eric, thought he was cute and nice, thought I'd never meet another gay man again, and jumped right in. Like with you and Alex, it was good in the beginning, but something was missing. I liked him and I cared about him, but I just couldn't fall in love with him the same way he had with me. That feeling was always with me, and I felt guilty at times. But there wasn't anyone else who I could confide in, who understood me the way he did. We started recruiting together, but somewhere along the way I became his keeper more than his boyfriend. At least that's how it felt to me. Eric was in love, and I guess he thought I felt the same. And then one day I was watching a group of survivors at a distance. I saw how they worked together, protected each other, fought together. I noticed how one man in particular would go off on his own, but always come back to the rest."

"Daryl," Paul said. Aaron nodded and couldn't help smile.

The question had been about Eric, but Aaron's mind was on Daryl, and talking about him made him feel closer. "I could tell they'd all been out there for a very long time, maybe too long. Daryl held himself in check at all times when he was with the group. But it was when he went off on his own that I saw a man filled with sorrow so much that it made my own heart hurt to watch. And I thought, there's a man who's always there for everyone else, but who has no one to go to for himself. I think I fell in love with him right then, watching him sitting on the ground, his back against a tree, knees bent, head hung, and desperate to feel anything. I felt that way too, and I wanted nothing more than to meet him." Aaron stopped. He'd been so infused in his story, it felt like he was back there again. It hit him like a brick wall when reality set back in. "I need to get him back, Paul. I can't stand the thought of him needing me, and I'm not doing everything in my power to find him. I know he would do that for me."

"But you have to understand that if you get caught, it will mean his death. These Saviors aren't people you want to test. I think you know that," Paul said.

"I know," Aaron whispered. "So what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"You got to get back to Alexandria and make sure you don't give Negan a reason to do anything to Daryl. You have to follow the rules, do as they say. It's the only way to get him home."

"Yeah, well, one thing I noticed about Negan is that he changes the rules or that he looks for any excuse to prove a point. I just can't accept playing his game. I've got this really bad feeling that he doesn't want to return Daryl to Alexandria. We find ourselves short on supplies, and there's Negan's excuse to keep him. There's only one way to get Daryl back. I'm going to have to go there. I'm going to have to find a way to get him out."

Paul sighed and shook his head. "You're one stubborn son of a bitch, you know that? Well, I suppose I couldn't convince you. I guess you're going to head on out now."

Aaron took another swig of his Scotch and glanced out of the window. "I think you're right that I should wait until sunrise."

Paul smiled, glad to hear this. "Good. Hey, I hope I haven't talked your ear off. I really enjoy talking to you. It's been a long time since I've opened up to anyone."

"It's been nice. And I like talking with you too. I think we have more in common than–" Aaron's words were cut off by the sudden blaring of music coming from the yard. Both men jumped up and exited the guard tower to stand at the edge of the roof.

Down below, there was an old Pinto with metal grates welded to all of its doors and windows. The music was coming from the car, which sat in the center of the yard. There were several fires burning, scattered around and close to some of the outbuildings. None of the trailers or buildings were burning. These were wood piles set ablaze. The gates were wide open, and they could see walkers coming in, attracted by the fire and the music.

"What the hell?" Aaron said, trying to make sense of it.

Paul turned to him, his eyes lit with anger and determination. "Saviors."

"They're here?" Aaron asked.

Paul looked back out over the yard. "I don't see them, but that's not to say they aren't lurking outside somewhere."

They could hear people coming out of their rooms, looking from the balcony or their windows, panic in their voices. Paul stood at the edge of the roof and looked down. "I have to go."

"I'm coming with you," Aaron stated.

"Not the way I'm going. Take the stairs, but keep a sharp eye out for Saviors. They can't know you're here," Paul warned. Suddenly, he was climbing over the edge of the roof.

Aaron stood a moment, watching him hanging from the edge. What was he doing, Aaron thought? Fearing for his safety, Aaron ran over to see if he was alright. He just caught sight of Paul sliding down between two of the dormers to the roof of the balcony below. Grabbing the edge of the roof, he dropped and swung inward, landing inside the balcony. Aaron was amazed at his agility. He's never seen anyone perform a stunt like that. Still looking over the roof, Aaron watched Paul's head pop back into view as he looked up to see if Aaron was still there. Paul smiled and waved, then disappeared again. Aaron was about to turn and head for the stairs when he heard Maggie calling.

"Jesus, get down to the yard. She's alone down there," Maggie said.

Aaron's heart beat quickly as he looked to where Maggie was looking, and saw Sasha, alone, fighting off walkers. "Shit," he said, and he ran for the stairs.

By the time Aaron got out to the yard, Sasha and Paul were fighting walkers, knifing them in their heads. He was glad he'd picked up those knives at the blacksmith, and he took one of them out as he ran in to help his friends. Sasha saw Aaron and relief washed over her face.

"Stay with Jesus. I'm going to see about that car," she said as she dashed off.

The music was blaring, but Aaron heard Maggie, who was standing on top of her trailer, as she barked orders to anyone she saw watching the scene unfold. "Get those guards down and get the gate shut."

Aaron had a moments break to see what was happening, and saw the gate guards hanging from the wall. At first he thought they were hanging from their necks, but he saw rope tied around their torsos. They were high enough so that the walkers couldn't get to them, but they were struggling to get free. Two men ran out of the front doors of the house, heading for the gate. It looked like they had it under control, so Aaron went back to taking out the dead that had come into the yard. He glanced around to make sure Paul was okay, and watched him jump up and spin in midair, kicking walkers to the ground before knifing them. It was like watching a perfectly synchronized dance. He was amazing.

Aaron and Paul were making progress with the walkers, but the car was still playing music. The gates were finally closed, so no more dead could get in, but they would still gather outside the wall as long as the music played.

"I can't get in," Sasha called to Aaron.

"Disconnect the battery," he yelled back.

"I tried. The hood is welded too."

That's when they heard the roar of an engine and turned to find a huge tractor coming from around the side of the house. Maggie was inside. Sasha looked worried, and Aaron knew why. Maggie was supposed to be taking it easy, especially so soon after being injured and sick. She needed to protect the baby.

"Shit," Sasha complained, and she was about to go after Maggie, but Paul was right there and grabbed her arm.

"Let her do this. She's got it," he told her.

Sasha nodded reluctantly, and continued knifing walkers still roaming the yard. Aaron and Paul did the same, but Aaron took note of the authority Paul displayed. Despite what Paul said or thought, he had leadership tendencies. He was able to take hold of a situation, stay calm and start doing anything that needed to be done in order to reverse the problems. So why wasn't he leading Hilltop?

Working as a team, they got the yard back under control. Some more people came out to watch the scene, and when the walkers were taken care of, Paul told them to get water on the fires and put them out. Maggie had used the tractor to run over the car, flattening it until the music stopped. Paul questioned the gate guards, who said they never saw the Saviors until it was too late. They were grabbed from the wall, tied up and strung over the edge like puppets. Maggie and Sasha told them how they were barred in their trailer from the outside, and had to escape through the sunroof. Paul instantly ordered a couple men to check the other trailers and let anyone out who was trapped. If Maggie's trailer was locked, so would the others.

"This kind of thing ever happen before?" Maggie asked Paul.

"No. This was a message and a warning, I'm sure," Paul said.

"You think they know about the deal between us and Hilltop?" Sasha wondered.

Paul shrugged. "I don't know. I think they're trying to find out though.

The sun was starting to come up, and after checking on everyone to make sure they were alright, Maggie, Sasha, Paul and Aaron went to Gregory to make another plea to let Maggie stay. After what they had done to protect Hilltop, Paul hoped Gregory would change his mind.

"What the hell happened out there?" Gregory said as the group entered his office. He closed the door behind them so they could talk privately.

"Maybe if you had come out to help us, you'd know that the Saviors were here last night," Paul said. It was the first time Aaron saw him stand up and posture against Gregory.

"By the time I heard the commotion and got dressed, you all had it under control," Gregory said.

Coward, Aaron thought. This guy was really starting to piss him off. Maybe Maggie shouldn't stay here. He wished he could go up against Gregory, but this wasn't his home and they were still trying to convince their fearful leader to accept Maggie as their newest resident, at least temporarily.

"If you were watching, then you should have seen that it was Maggie, Sasha and Aaron who saved this place," Paul argued.

"And I appreciate it. I really do, but if you're looking for me to change my mind about them staying, you're wrong," Gregory defended. "They can't be seen here or the Saviors are going to burn this place to ashes. They're more harmful being here than if they went home and hoped for the best. Now, I'm sorry Marsha's got problems with her pregnancy, but that's not my responsibility. She should have known better than to get knocked up in the first place."

"Her name is Maggie," Sasha said, ready to get in Gregory's face. Gregory took a step back and Aaron put a hand on her arm to stop her advancement. They couldn't push their way in, not this time.

"Gregory, you can't throw them out, not now. We can work with Alexandria, and we can start by helping out one of their own," Paul tried to persuade.

"I can and I will. You know as well as I that what happened here was a message from Negan. The only way we can save ourselves is to send them away and claim plausible deniability. If they talk, we can say we knew nothing about their actions. But if they find anyone from Alexandria here, we're screwed," Gregory said. "Therefore, you all have to leave."

"Please," Sasha begged. "I'll go and Aaron will go, but let Maggie stay. Jesus can protect her while she's here. I'm sure a place like this has a lot of hiding spots. I'll even pay her way by scavenging for her. She won't be a burden on you."

Aaron was disgusted by the way Gregory's eyes raked up and down Sasha's body. "Maybe we can work out some kind of deal … privately."

"Why you son of a–" Aaron seethed taking a step towards Gregory.

"No," Maggie interrupted. "This is enough. Fine. You want us gone, we're gone, but Alexandria won't deny the fact that we were working for you."

"You can't go," Sasha demanded. "You heard Dr. Carson. It's better if you're here in case something goes wrong."

Paul stepped forward in front of Gregory and took over. "Maggie stays," he simply said.

"Oh, does she?" Gregory returned with an arrogant tilt of his head. "So what is this, Jesus? Are you challenging me and my position? Are you going to try and take leadership? Of course, maybe if you'd stick around more than five minutes, you might still have people backing you. Maybe you should go with these three … leave Hilltop for good. You can't though, can you?"

Paul stared Gregory down, but Aaron could see a hint of defeat in his eyes, as though Gregory held some kind of information over Paul's head. He took a deep breath and regained his composure, a sly smile threatening the corner of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed like the cunning of a fox. "I can go out there right now and let everyone in Hilltop know about the deal you made with Alexandria. I can tell them all the details of that deal because I was there. You won't be able to deny it, and the people will believe me. I might not be here all the time, but I've done a lot for these people, and they know that I look out for them, which is more than I can say for you. Try explaining to them how you'd send a pregnant woman out there."

Gregory was cornered, and everyone could see it on his face. "You really want to go there?"

"I just did," Paul challenged.

Everyone was holding their breath to see what the outcome of this feud would be when they heard engines and shouts coming from outside. Paul tore himself away to look out the window. "Shit. They're here. Saviors."

"I knew this was going to happen," Gregory complained. "Jesus, get them out of here."

"Not until you agree to let them stay," Paul argued.

Gregory could see he was trapped into making a deal. There wasn't any time left."Okay, fine, they can stay," he agreed reluctantly. "Just get them out of here. Hide them in the hall closet."

"But–" Paul started.

"Just do it. Now!" Gregory demanded, pushing them out of his office. He closed the door on them, seeming to hide like a tortoise in its shell.

Back out in the foyer, Paul led them to the closet and opened the door. There were a couple boxes stacked on top of each other, and not enough room to hide one, let alone three people. Aaron noticed that the box on top held bottles of Scotch, the same kind they were drinking last night. This was Gregory's personal stash. The same sly look came back to Paul's face as he turned to Aaron. "I want you to go up to my room and hide there. You should be safe."

"What about the women?" Aaron asked.

"I've got another place for them. Worst case scenario, you won't all be found in the same spot," Paul said.

"What?" Sasha almost yelled.

"Trust me," Paul said in a calm tone.

Aaron didn't argue. He flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He could see men filing out of the trucks in the yard. They were heading straight for the house. He rushed down the hall, and when he reached Paul's room, the door a couple rooms down opened, and Alex stepped out. Aaron froze.

"Negan's men are here," Alex stated.

"I know," Aaron said.

"Where's Paul?"

"He's helping my friends hide."

"Oh, that's right. Don't want Negan finding out about the arrangement," Alex said condescendingly.

"You know about that?"

"Paul tells me everything. We don't keep secrets. Not until lately anyway."

That was a shot at Aaron, but now was not the time for petty arguing. "So you know how important it is that the Saviors don't find us here."

"Where are you going?"

"Paul told me to hide in his room."

Alex glared at him a moment. Again, Paul had let someone other than Alex into his room without his presence. For a moment, Aaron didn't trust what was going through Alex's mind. He stood straight and pulled his shoulders back. "Are you going to turn me in?"

They stood there staring at each other in the hall. The sound of many booted feet filled the foyer. Negan's men were in the house. Aaron worried that some of them were going to come upstairs. Alex wasn't answering. He wasn't moving either. Finally, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Go," he said.

Aaron reached for the door handle to Paul's room, but at the last second, Alex stopped him. "Wait," he said regretfully. It was killing him to have to make this decision. "Come in my room instead."

"Why?" Aaron asked, skeptical of anything Alex said or did.

"More places to hide," he answered, and turned towards his room. Aaron followed without any more questions.

Alex's room was more decorated than Paul's. He had framed photos sitting around on tables and shelves. He had a small couch and a bed, a two person table to sit at, lots of little mementos strewn about here and there. The bed was with covered with a deep purple flowered duvet made of silk, and multiple pillows were stacked neatly at the headboard. There was a cedar chest at the foot of the bed, and a row of clear glass votive candle holders, each with a white candle inside. The two side tables by the bed were each covered with a rich red scarf. The larger table had a blue vase with a bunch of wild flowers arranged neatly within. It was a quaint little room, a love nest, a place of warmth, comfort and safety, a place made with someone else in mind.

"Have a seat," Alex offered, gesturing to the couch.

"Shouldn't I hide somewhere?" Aaron asked.

"As long as I've lived here, they've never been up in the rooms," Alex said.

"There's always a first time," Aaron said nervously.

"Paul wouldn't have sent you up here if he thought you were in danger of discovery," Alex said with a cool tone. Aaron was at his mercy now. "I know how his mind works. You're safe."

"Thanks," Aaron replied. He kept his eye on Aaron as he took a seat. Once he settled he glanced around the room. "How long have you lived at Hilltop?"

"Almost from the beginning. I came here to help out. I'd heard that FEMA set up a station here, and thought my talents could be used. I wasn't here long when they were told to evacuate. A lot of people left with them, some of us didn't, and now we have Hilltop Colony." It was the short version of the story, but Alex didn't seem to want to discuss his past. "What about you? How did you find Alexandria?"

"Came upon it with a small group of people. Some left to find loved ones. A couple of us stayed. Similar story to yours," Aaron said with the same kind of terse answer.

"Paul said you live in luxury," Alex said. "Huge houses, running water, electricity."

"Alexandria was created for bureaucrats in Washington. It was made to be self-sustaining if the grid went down. I guess they didn't prepare for the dead to rise."

"Honey, no one was prepared for that," Alex said with a flick of his hand. He turned more serious as his gaze fell on Aaron. "You know you've put us all at risk by being here."

"And you put us at risk by not telling us that there were more Saviors than the ones at that compound," Aaron countered.

"That's all we thought there were," Alex defended. "We had no idea there were more. The same group always seemed to come here, and when we were told to deliver our good to them, it was always at that station."

"You expect me to believe that a group of thirty people was enough for you to bow down to these assholes?"

"They killed a sixteen year old boy right out there," Alex said pointing toward the direction of the yard. "They took our guns and ammo. Gregory said he wouldn't risk more lives. Whether it's one person or thirty, a gun trumps a knife any day. The Saviors were more heavily armed."

That seemed like a poor excuse to Aaron. He remembered that night in the woods and used it to counter Alex's excuse. "They toyed with us, played some kind of cat and mouse game, made us run around and bounce from one place to another before they captured us. And then we were introduced to Negan. He screwed with each and every one of us until we were physically and mentally incapable of resisting his threats. But his main goal was to break our leader, and to do that he had to kill two of our people and steal a third. And all because they found out that we were the ones who paid a visit to their compound. If we were cowards like Gregory, we might have told Negan who we were working for, but we didn't because we were still protecting you. So don't talk to me about risks. Hilltop never even tried." Alex had no reply, and Aaron turned away from him. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. "Those men downstairs know where our man is, and we want him back. There's a missed opportunity going on, and I'm helpless to do anything about it because I'm STILL protecting Hilltop. Sooner or later, you are going to have to return the favor. Paul knows that. That's why he's down there fighting for Maggie to stay."

"Well, I can honestly say I agree with you about that. Gregory, though … he's not going to budge on the matter."

"Gregory is an asshole," Aaron said.

This made Alex smile as a laughed slowly bubbled to the surface. "You're not the only one to feel that way."

"Then why do you let him stay in charge? Paul should be the one running Hilltop. He practically does, but you'd never know it. Gregory just takes the credit. You care so much for Paul, why don't you fight for him?" Aaron said.

"It's not that simple. And besides, I don't think Paul wants that position." Alex hung his head. "He's hardly ever here anymore." The sadness in his voice was unmistakable.

Aaron thought about the conversation he had with Paul earlier. Paul had admitted to some personal feelings. It might not be Aaron's place to do so, but he felt that Alex needed a boost. "If he's gone away so much, I don't think it's because he doesn't want to be here. It's because he believes in Hilltop. He's protecting his home by going out there and doing the difficult job. He's doing it because he has someone here to come home to." Aaron paused and waited for Alex to glance at him. "He really does care about you." That earned him a hint of a smile from Alex, so he continued to prove his point. "What you said about Paul's feelings towards me are wrong. He's a friend and an ally. That's all. I've already found my soulmate, and I'd never do anything to threaten our bond." Aaron paused to swallow the lump in his throat. "If I ever see him again."

Alex leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as though contemplating something. His head bobbed a couple times, agreeing with himself silently before he spoke. "I saw the trucks pull into the yard. One of them, the white one, they call it Negan's truck. I don't know what they do or where they go after visiting our place, but I do know that white truck always goes back to their compound."

Aaron slowly looked up at Alex, who was giving him a clue as to what to do next. "How do I get out of here?"

"You're best bet is to wait until they've loaded the trucks and they're just about ready to take off," Alex told him. "As long as they're downstairs, you can't get out."

Aaron finally had hope again. If he could get downstairs and sneak into that truck, he could hitch a ride right into enemy territory. It was another huge risk, but it was better than tracking them on foot. He started forming a plan. This was the break he'd been looking for. Aaron glanced up at Alex. "Thank you," he whispered meaningfully. He got up and went to the door.

"Wait," Alex panicked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm listening," Aaron said as he cracked the door open. The voices were hushed, but he could still hear the Saviors downstairs. He would keep listening until it was quiet so that he could leave quickly. Paul would be able to tell him how to sneak out without being seen. While he waited, a question popped in the back of his mind. Alex had been so accusing ever since he met him. Now Aaron wondered why he changed his mind. He closed the door and looked over his shoulder to Alex. "Why are you helping me?" It was a fair question considering their arguments since he arrived at Hilltop.

"It's easy for me to put myself in your position. Every time Paul leaves, my worry is nonstop. I don't know where he's gone or how long it will be before he returns. But so far, he's always come home. I've gotten used to it being that way. Seeing you and hearing your story reminds me that there is still the chance Paul won't come home, and that I might never know what happened to him." Alex stopped to give Aaron a slight comforting smile. "At least you have the chance to find out where your man is, and the hope that you can bring him home."

It took a while, but finally Aaron heard the Saviors leaving. He waited a few more minutes to make sure they were all outside and away from the house. He looked back once more at Alex.

"Good luck," Alex said, and Aaron gave him a nod before sneaking from the bedroom.

He went to the head of the stairs and looked over the banister to the foyer below, being cautious all the way. It was empty downstairs, but then he heard muffled voices above him, on the third floor. It sounded like a heated argument, and one of the voices was definitely Paul. Aaron climbed the stairs and followed the voices, which led him to Gregory's elaborate bedroom. Maggie, Sasha, Paul and Gregory were there. Gregory looked angry. So did everyone else. They all turned when they heard Aaron enter the room.

"Where the hell did you hide him?" Gregory complained.

"Don't try to change the subject," Maggie told him. "The fact is, you tried to turn us in."

"He what?" Aaron said with surprise. He glared at Gregory. "We were supposed to have a deal."

"I haven't agreed to anything," Gregory said with a pugnacious jutting of his chin.

Paul came over to stand next to Aaron. "I had a feeling he might try something when he told me to hide the women in the closet. He gestured to the closet in the hall, which I know is where he keeps the Scotch. Instead I brought them up here to his bedroom closet." Paul gave Gregory a sly smile.

"You owe us now," Maggie seethed. "And I'm staying."

Gregory could see he was losing authority. He gave Paul a pleading look. "Jesus, you'll support me on this, won't you?"

"She stays," Paul said firmly.

Gregory's face fell back into anger, and he stormed out of his room. When he was gone, everyone smiled at their accomplishment. Paul approached Maggie and took her hand. "I'm sorry I didn't try harder to begin with. I hope I can make it up to you."

"It's alright," Maggie smile kindly. "It worked out … for now at least."

Aaron was glad for the way things turned out. Knowing Maggie and Sasha could stay at Hilltop was a load off of his mind, but there was still one very important mission to carry out, and he needed Paul's help. However, he couldn't talk to him with the women here. He didn't want them to know what he was doing, especially Maggie. She would insist that he didn't go or that she would go with him, and she was in no condition to put herself under any more pressure and strain. Sasha would probably offer to go instead, and Aaron didn't want that either. If things took a turn for the worst, he wanted to be the only one responsible. He couldn't stand to see any more of his friends die at Negan's hands.

He glanced over Sasha's shoulder to the yard below. The men were still loading up a truck, taking things from the blacksmith and the kitchen, and whatever other stuff they decided to take. Alex had been right about them not coming upstairs. Anything the Saviors were interested in was on the bottom floor of the house.

A man came out with a painting, and took it to the white van. Aaron had seen the painting in Gregory's office. It was a priceless piece of art, Gregory's pride and joy, according to Paul. This was his punishment, Aaron thought. More so, the painting was going to the white van, Negan's truck, the one that would head straight to the Saviors compound. Aaron needed to get down there quickly before it left.

"You shouldn't stand so close to the window," Paul told Maggie, who was watching and studying the men below. Aaron knew what she was doing. She was memorizing faces, watching to see who was in charge, who had more authority, and who was just there to load trucks.

"That man," she said, pointing. "Who is he?"

"That's Simon. He's one of Negan's lead men," Paul said.

"He was there that night. He was at some of the road blocks too." Her eyes narrowed on the man.

"I know what you're thinking, but you can't," Sasha said.

"Yeah, I know, but one day . . ." Maggie said quietly. Then she left the room.

Aaron leaned into Paul's ear and whispered. "Can I talk to you privately?"

Paul nodded and led Aaron from the room. Maggie was already descending the stairs. Paul took Aaron further down the hall to a sitting room, apparently a place where the head of the house could reflect quietly without interruption. "What is it?" Paul asked.

"I'm going," Aaron said.

"Right now? But the Saviors are still downstairs."

"I know, and that's why I need to go now. Alex told me that–"

"Alex?" Paul questioned.

Aaron nodded. "He saw me going to your room to hide and took me into his room instead."

"What did he tell you?"

"He said the white truck goes back to the Savior's compound."

Paul sighed and shook his head. "Aaron, no," he said, already figuring out what Aaron wanted to do.

"Just help me get to that van, that's all I ask," Aaron pleaded.

"And what happens if you're caught? Simon and his men will turn right around and search ever corner of Hilltop until they find Maggie and Sasha. They'll kill you. And lastly, they'll make another example out of Daryl. Is that what you want?"

"I want Daryl home with me. I want to know he's alright and not being tortured. I want him back in my arms, safe and sound." The passion in Aaron's eyes was unmistakable. He would risk it all for Daryl because Daryl would do it for him. "We had a deal and I stayed until sunrise. It's way past that now. I have to go, and an opportunity has just presented itself that I can't pass up."

Paul shook his head again and paced back and forth a couple times before stopping in front of Aaron. "I'll go."

"What? No," Aaron disagreed. "You need to stay here and make sure Gregory doesn't try anything."

"Have you seen Maggie? Do you even know Sasha? They aren't timid little girls. Besides, I've talked to a few of my friends here, and they agree with Maggie staying. They don't care much for Gregory either, and they'll have no problem going up against him if he tries something. In the short amount of time she's been here, she already has more support than Gregory ever has."

"But I have to do this. I need to do this," Aaron argued.

"What you need to do is to get back to Alexandria before Negan shows up. They'll be counting heads. They know who was there that night. If any of you are missing, they'll get really suspicious."

"But–" Aaron resisted, but he was cut off again.

"Please, Aaron," Paul said. He had a hand on each of Aaron's shoulders, and was looking him deep into his eyes. "Please, let me do this. Let me help you. I want to do this for you. And besides, I'm good when it comes to stealth. I won't let them see me. I won't let them catch me. I will bring Daryl back. I promise." To further make his point, Paul cupped the side of Aaron face and gave him a friendly pat. "I … will … bring … him … back."

No one but Daryl had ever looked him in the eyes and made a solid promise. Paul meant every word he said, and somehow, Aaron trusted that he would bring Daryl home to him. He couldn't speak, but he nodded in agreement. He felt raw and exposed, all of his emotions jumbling together in a tangled mess. He needed to show Paul how much this meant to him, and all he could think to do was hug him. Aaron grasped Paul, pulling him into his chest, and held him tight. "Thank you," he whispered several times. Aaron was prepared to do this himself, but the fact that someone else finally recognized his fears and concern was reassuring to him.

"Paul?" said a soft voice from the doorway.

Paul released Aaron, but he smiled and nodded before he turned his attention to the door. Both men looked over to see Alex standing there, watching them.

"Alex," Paul replied, and there was something soft and sweet in his voice.

"Uh, what's going on?" Alex said.

Paul went to Alex and took his hand. "I have to go."

"Go where?" Alex asked with concern.

"There's something I have to do, but you don't have to worry–"

"You're going with Aaron, aren't you?" Alex accused when he cut Paul's words short.

Alex still thought Aaron was sneaking off with the Saviors. Aaron suddenly felt guilty after knowing how Alex felt about Paul leaving all the time.

"I'm not going with him. He's leaving for Alexandria," Paul said.

Alex glared at Aaron, who was still standing in the center of the sitting room. Then he grabbed Paul's arm and pulled him away from the doorway. "You're going in his place. Goddammit, you're going looking for the Savior's compound," Alex said with anger.

"Aaron can't go. Negan is probably on his way to Alexandria right now. He needs to get back there before he's missed. I told him I'd go and find Daryl. I'm going and that's it." Paul put his foot down, not wanting to argue with Alex. There were daggers shooting from Alex's eyes as he stared Paul down, but Paul ignored it and smiled, leaning in and kissing him to try and calm him. Alex tried to resist by not responding, but his body relaxed as he melded into Paul's kiss. Aaron watched the exchange for a moment, but turned his head, feeling like he needed to give them privacy. Alex's eyes were still closed and his lips parted when Paul released him. His eyes slowly opened, a pleading gaze falling on his lover.

"I wish you would stay, but I know there is nothing I can say to make you change your mind," Alex told him.

"You know me so well," Paul responded with another sweet smile. He glanced out the window and saw the last of the men leaving through the gate. "There's not much time left. I've gotta go." He kissed Alex's forehead, and then the bridge of his nose. Then he took a step back and glanced over to Aaron. Paul nodded, reassuring Aaron of his promise to find Daryl. After that, he was gone, flying downstairs and heading in the direction of the kitchen. Aaron knew there was an exit in the kitchen where Paul would sneak out and make his way to the white van.

Alex turned back to Aaron after Paul was gone. Aaron was afraid of what he would say. He looked worried and upset. Aaron felt bad, and he started to explain. "I was ready to go, but Paul wouldn't let me. I made my argument, but his was better."

"No one can stop Paul once he puts his mind to something," Alex said sadly. "All we can do now is hope both our men return." He turned and walked away without another word.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42 The Day the Music Died**

 _ **The Sanctuary, a couple days after being taken prisoner . . .**_

Daryl didn't know how long he'd been in this hell. At first, the music was on a loop, a horribly cheerful song that was so loud he couldn't hear himself think. Eventually, it would stop for a length of different intervals, but then it would come back on just when Daryl was relieved for the silence. The only thing he could do was cover his ears to try and mute the obnoxious sound. He was naked in his cell without anything to keep him warm. In the dark damp room, he shivered until he thought he was losing consciousness. Hypothermia, he wondered? He'd been in similar situations growing up in the backwoods, lost in the wilderness, cold and hungry, but at least he had a shirt on his back. He had nothing now, and he thought he was losing his mind. Daryl was weak, cold, hungry, and so tired that he couldn't sleep anymore. There was such a thing as that, he told himself, but he wasn't sure he didn't sleep because of his condition or because of fear.

He'd been deprived of any food and only given enough water to keep him alive. It didn't help that he hadn't eaten in a couple days prior to his capture. He had been too full of rage and sorrow over the death of Denise. And then his wrath towards Aaron for leaving Alexandria to go with Jesus to Hilltop completely destroyed his appetite. His heart ached to think of Aaron. He never should have been so horrible to him. The things he said were out of anger, and his actions against him were a result of his belligerence. He never should have accused him of an affair. He knew Aaron would never do such a thing.

Dwight, it seemed, was his keeper, bringing him small shots of water once in a while. Sometimes he would talk to Daryl, and tell him if he accepted Negan as his leader, he'd be given clothes and food. All he had to do was kneel down and say the words.

The words were said by everyone who worked for Negan. When asked, 'Who are you', they all replied, 'Negan'. Daryl remembered the man from the satellite compound, the one who tried to escape on his stolen bike. He had told Rick that he was Negan, and at first they thought they had captured the man responsible for so much fear. The man was eventually killed, and so was everyone else at the Saviors compound. Alexandria was foolish to think they eradicated the problem and set Hilltop free of their enemy. That station had only been a single outpost, and the twenty or so people there, who all called themselves Negan, were a drop in a much larger bucket. They were a handful of bees collecting honey, and now Daryl was trapped inside the hive. All he had to do was conform. When asked what his name was, he would respond, "Negan," and he could get out of his prison. But no matter how horrible his conditions were, Daryl would not say it. He refused with silence every time Dwight brought it up. Daryl knew who he was. He'd spent too many years being someone else, and he never wanted to go back to a place like that. He had finally accepted who he was. He would never pretend again.

Daryl had enough time to wonder why Dwight was wasting his time trying to make him submit in the first place. Negan had taken him hostage to ensure that Rick followed through with Negan's orders. Daryl knew it wasn't that simple. The Saviors had no intention of releasing him back to his people. Negan saw potential in Daryl, as far as turning him into one of the Savior's henchmen. Follow the rules, bow down to Negan, and you could become his right hand man. But how many right hands did Negan have? Daryl had seen a few, Dwight for one, the man at the satellite station for another. Become an active member of their society and have your own group of followers who would listen to your every word and carry out every order without resistance. Power was what Negan used to control his top guys. He gave them their own power, but Negan's rule trumped them all. And if he could break Daryl and get him to join them, he'd have one more under his thumb. At what cost? Daryl's identity, the thing that drove his very soul would belong to Negan. What had Dwight given up to have the position he ruled from? Daryl wondered. He was sure it had something to do with those two women he had with him in the burnt out woods. One had died, but what happened to the other one? Sherry, he remembered Dwight calling her as she jumped on the back of Daryl's bike, aiming her gun at him.

Daryl had been in such deep thought, he almost didn't notice when the music stopped. The lock clicked and Dwight came in holding something in his hand. The light bleeding through the door was too bright to see what he held. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Dwight walk to where he was curled up, naked and cold, in the corner.

"You know, it's not so bad here," Dwight started the conversation. "Yeah, Negan has rules, and some of them don't make much sense, but if you just do as you're told, there's a place here for you."

"I have a place," Daryl said in a low tone.

"Yeah, well, about that," Dwight said and paused.

Daryl's heart felt like it stopped. He looked up at Dwight through his long greasy hair. "What?" he asked desperately.

Dwight smiled. "See there? You still care. Don't get your panties in a wad … well … if you had any." He held his hand out offering Daryl a sandwich. "Orders say to feed you."

Daryl looked at the sandwich in his hand. Every stubborn part of him said to refuse it, but his body cried out for nourishment and he couldn't resist. He snatched the food from Dwight's hand and instantly took a large bite. As hungry as he was, his body wanted to reject the awful smelling and tasting sandwich. The bread was hard and moldy and the meat, if that's what it was, seemed rancid. He wanted to spit it out, but that's what Dwight was hoping he'd do. Daryl could see it on his face as he watched him eat. Daryl kept chewing and managed to swallow.

"My orders were to feed you," Dwight said again. "But they didn't say what to feed you. I picked the filet mignon chopped dinner … for large breeds, you know, since you're our guest and all."

Dogfood, Daryl thought to himself. Of course. He gazed up at Dwight with a death stare and took another bite just to prove that he didn't give a shit.

Dwight huffed and shook his head. "Huh, you are one tough son of a bitch. Well, enjoy." He turned to leave and opened the door.

The light that cut through the dark was blinding, and Daryl held his hand up to shade his eyes as he peered out of the door. He could see a couple men with guns guarding the door while Dwight carried out his duties.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Dwight said from the doorway. "Negan's putting you to work. Now that you're eating on our dime, it's time for you to earn your keep. I'll send someone down here with your clothes, just as soon as he retrieves them from the last guy who broke the rules." Dwight left and the music turned back on.

Daryl finished the rest of the sandwich. As disgusting as it was, it filled up his stomach. He was already feeling strength return to his body, which was quickly absorbing the food into his system. He felt like the lowest of the low having to eat dogfood, but it was something at least. And the fact that they finally fed him meant that they didn't want to kill him, not yet. It also meant that he was going to get some of his strength back, and that was important to getting out of this place.

* * *

A long time passed before someone turned the music off again. Daryl listened to the sound of the lock clicking open and waited in the corner to see if he would finally get some clothes. The door opened, and there were only two men. One was a young fat kid, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. He was standing in the hallway, holding a gun aimed into the cell. Daryl recognized it right away as Rick's Colt Python. The other man was the one Daryl remembered from the day he was put in the cell. This man had watched him get naked with a gleam in his eye, and Daryl knew he could be dangerous. He held a folded outfit under his arm as he strode into the cell. The man was large from muscles and height, very fit and in much better shape than Daryl was right now. He walked up to Daryl and around him, staring down with a hungry eye.

"Well, well, look at you," the man said. He smiled and sucked air between his front teeth, making them whistle. "I bet your pretty damn cold sitting there naked in the dark. You know, they don't do that to all of them, only the disruptive ones. Personally, I like it when they fight back. Gives me something to look forward to. I was kind of hoping you'd try something when the door opened. You ever wrestled a naked man before? It's like trying to catch a pig, skin sliding, limbs twisting, gyrating as you try to wiggle free. Yep," he finished saying in an erotic tone. He walked to the side of Daryl, and Daryl did his best to cover himself. The man laughed. "I'm surprised you're this shy. The ones that like to fight back generally don't care if their naked. I saw your back when they brought you in here. Looks like you fight back quite a lot." Keeping himself at a safe distance, the man crouched down on bent knees and whispered so that the kid with the gun in the hall couldn't hear. "I can help you get out of here, but you got to do something for me. I know about you. I heard Dwight talking to someone, said your man tried to save you. I bet you miss him something awful, the way he holds you, kisses you, the feel of his cock up your ass. I can ease your pain and make it worth your while, and in return I give you a good report. Dwight wouldn't do that. He's not like us."

"I ain't nothing like you," Daryl growled. "But I know men like you. I've killed men like you with my bare hands."

"Ooh, you know I like it when they talk like that. Gives me a warm fuzzy. Come on, just give me a peek. Turn towards me. Let me see what you got hiding down there."

"Fuck off," Daryl seethed.

"You're already naked. All I got to do is close the door and tell Joey to keep watch. Then I'll slide up in there. You can even call me by your man's name. I don't give a shit. We don't get many like us around here, and it's been a long time. No one needs to know about this. Just let me tap that–"

Daryl came out of his fetal position and swung a fist at the man's face. He used the wall to propel himself forward and felt his knuckles crunch the man's nose. The man was taken off guard, and fell backwards onto his ass. Then he shuffled crablike toward the open door. Joey, the guard with the gun, stepped forward to help the man by pulling him up by his arm.

"Damn Brady. What the fuck man?" Joey complained, obviously more scared than worried about where he was aiming the gun. He wasn't paying attention. Daryl watched the door, seeing a brief opportunity to make a break for it, but he was weak and malnourished from days of starvation. The last time he stood up, his leg muscles shook. If he tried to run now, he'd just end up getting shot.

"Motherfucker. I think he broke my nose," Brady said. Sure enough, blood oozed down his face and onto his shirt. Now he was angry, and he came back into the cell. "I tried to be nice. I tried to give you a choice, but you had to go and screw it up. Don't think this is over. You broke my fucking nose. Now you owe me, asshole."

He started kicking Daryl's legs and back, anywhere his foot would make contact. Daryl tried deflecting the blows with is hands or by turning away, but nothing helped. He could feel himself getting bruised up.

"Hey man! Cut that shit out. This isn't what I signed up for when I said I'd be your lookout. If Negan finds out–"

"If he finds out, you'll go under the iron for being an accomplice. Is that what you want?" Brady threatened.

Joey swallowed hard. "We've been here too long as it is. Give him the clothes and let's get the fuck out of here."

Brady stared at Daryl, as though considering what to do. Finally he went along with Joey. "Fuck! I need to see the Doc. If anyone asks, this guy attacked me as I opened the door. You held him at gunpoint and we got things back under control. That's the story. Got it?" He threw the clothes at Daryl.

"Yeah man, whatever. Let's fucking go already," the youth said worriedly. The door closed, the lock clicked and the music went back on.

It was a grungy sweat suit, just like the one he'd seen a man wearing, the one who had this cell before him. This one had a red letter A painted on the front of the shirt. By now, Daryl didn't care. Just to have clothes covering his skin again was a luxury. He hurried and dressed. Getting out of this cell would give him a chance to see where he was and begin planning a way out.

A little while later, Dwight came back, and took him out of the cell. He held Daryl by the back of the shirt at the neck, and made him go first as he directed him down the long hallway. There were a couple men with mops who stood to the side when Dwight and Daryl passed. They kept their eyes to the floor in a submissive manner. Daryl wondered how long they had been in their cells. Now they were doing janitorial service in the pits of the factory. Moving up the ladder, Daryl thought.

Dwight led Daryl to an examining room. The doctor who patched up his shoulder was there with a woman. Daryl recognized her as the woman from the burnt out wood, Sherry. He kept his face hidden while the doctor finished up with her. He must be here about his shoulder, Daryl thought. The doc said he wanted to see him in a few days to check his progress.

Sherry slid down from the exam table and met Dwight's eyes, but he looked down at the little silver tray next to him. Daryl glanced at it too, and saw a used pregnancy test with a large minus sign in the display.

"It's negative," Sherry told Dwight.

"Maybe next time," he answered.

Sherry started to leave, but as she passed him, she recognized him. "Daryl?" she said surprised.

"Don't talk to him," Dwight warned, and there was more fear than anger in his tone.

Sherry ignored him and spoke. "Whatever they tell you to do, do it. You don't know what they–"

"I said no talking," Dwight demanded, and Sherry left the exam room. Dwight shoved Daryl toward the table, and Daryl could feel the amount of ire building in the man. That test had been a surprise to him, and the reason she took it wasn't because of Dwight.

"Let's have a look at that shoulder, shall we?" the doctor said as though this was a routine visit. Daryl had a seat on the table, and let the doctor lift his shirt. "Coming along nicely. Nothing to worry about. Negan will take care of you," the doctor said with a smile.

When the doctor was done changing the bandages, Dwight led Daryl down the hall. As they were about to round a corner, Negan appeared. Dwight instantly went to one knee and pulled Daryl with him.

"Dwight, a word please," Negan said.

"Joey," Dwight called out, and Daryl saw the kid from earlier come up from behind them. "Take him over there, sit him down, and don't let him move. I'll be right back."

Joey nodded and pulled Daryl up by the neck of his shirt. "This way, asshole," the kid said, and he took Rick's gun out of his belt to aim it at him. Joey pushed him onto a chair across from a room with its door open. Daryl gazed inside. It was set up nice, a furnished efficiency apartment with a bed, a microwave, a sink, and shelves loaded with books, table and chairs, lamps. Daryl felt his longing for home, for his home with Aaron, for the comfort it brought him.

Dwight returned quickly, and nodded to Joey, relieving him of his duty. Daryl was still looking in the room, but he was seeing home, and wondering if he would ever get back there. His vision was interrupted by Dwight pulling him to his feet and leading him further down the hallway to a door. He opened it and forced Daryl through. They were standing outside looking down at the perimeter fence. On the other side were walkers chained to the fence or impaled by long metal rods cemented securely into the ground. There were concrete barriers, like the ones used to divide lanes of an interstate. Walkers were chained to those as well, with only a little room to move. This was part of their security against intruders. Instead of a wooden wall made of logs like that of Hilltop, or of corrugated steel like Alexandria's wall, the Saviors used walkers as their buffer.

There were two men outside the fence guiding a fresh turned walker with a bucket over his head. They chained it to an empty place on one of the concrete barriers, working together to keep from getting caught by grabbing corpse hands and bitten.

"If you don't comply, this is what will happen to you. One way or another, you will work for Negan. You can do in here or out there. The choice is yours. For now, though, you'll be doing what those guys are doing. Like I said, you gotta earn your keep. We all do."

Eventually, Dwight took Daryl back to the cell. He thought he was going to be allowed to start working. Anything would be better than sitting in that cold dark room with the blaring music. If he went back in there, he would go insane. Dwight shoved him inside, and Daryl sat down in his corner with his back against the wall, hiding his panic. Dwight stood in the doorway and peered down at him. "All you have to do is say it, and I can get you out of here."

There were two men who said they could get him out of the cell, and neither one gave him a good enough reason. He wouldn't say it, not to Dwight and not to Negan. They would just have to kill him. Maybe it was what he deserved, retribution for getting Glenn killed, for pushing Aaron away, for letting his things get stolen, for not protecting Denise, his brother, Beth, and anyone else who died because of his poor decisions.

"I'll never do it," Daryl said after a long silence. "I'll never bow down to him."

Dwight shook his head in pity. "Yeah, I said that, too." He left. The door closed. The lock clicked. The music came on, and Daryl's desperation to get out hit him hard.

He was getting angrier by the moment. The music was pissing him off. He couldn't take it any longer. There had to be a way out. He would lose his mind if he had to be subjected to this torture any longer. They said they were putting him to work. He'd take chaining walkers any day to sitting in the dark with music blaring so loud he couldn't hear himself think. Wasn't someone looking for him? Weren't they trying to find a way to get him out? Rick could barter for him. He could find something that had more value than Daryl, something Negan would want more than a man's soul. Maybe Rick didn't want Daryl back. He blamed Daryl for Glenn's death. Maggie was probably glad he was gone. Aaron … Aaron might have tired of Daryl's difficult attitude. He wouldn't forget about him, would he? They'd stared at each other across the forest and confessed their true feelings. Daryl thought he'd seen Aaron's eyes tear. But after Glenn …. Afterwards, Aaron wouldn't even look at him. He thought it was Daryl's fault too.

"No," he told himself. "I'm getting out of here." He got up from the floor and started pacing the cell, feeling along the walls like he had a thousand times before. Maybe he missed something. The door. Maybe if he kicked it hard enough it would bust from its hinges. Daryl started kicking the door with his bare feet. Time and time again, he kicked it, but it didn't budge an inch. The music played on. Daryl was losing hope. He stopped what he was doing. It was pointless. They would let him die here. He dropped to his knees and let out a guttural cry, pulling his hair as he did. He was a man on the edge. No one was going to let him out. There was no job. There was only darkness. He crawled back to his corner, pulled his knees to his chest, buried his face and rocked back and forth.

* * *

There was no concept of time except to count how many times the song played. It was probably a two minute song. Five times would be ten minutes. Ten times would be twenty. Daryl stopped counting after a while because he could no longer decipher when it stopped or when it started. His ankles were hurting from kicking the door. His mind was mush and he couldn't think anymore. No one was coming. He was all alone now.

Then suddenly the music stopped. The lock clicked. The door opened. Light knifed inside hurting his eyes. A figure stood in the doorway. It wasn't Dwight. It was someone large, round. Joey.

He came into the room and looked down at Daryl. He held his hand out, offering a sandwich. Daryl looked at it a moment, and noticed that Joey wouldn't come any further into the room. He was scared of Daryl. He seemed scared in general. Daryl got to his knees and stretched out for the sandwich. As soon as his fingers touched it, Joey released it and backed away.

"You're going to need your strength," he said, and he looked at Daryl as though he wished he could say more. Daryl thought he wasn't a bad kid. He'd just gotten tangled up with the wrong guys. He was doing his job because he was terrified of Negan. Actually, a lot of people here seemed scared of Negan. Only the ones he called his top guys weren't outwardly frightened. They held some power though, and that was enough to keep them on Negan's side.

Joey left the room in a hurry and closed the door. Daryl knew what came next, the sound of the lock clicking and then the music. It was completely silent and he waited, but the lock never made its sound. After a moment, the music came back on. Did Joey just forget to lock the door? Was he so frightened of Daryl he forgot? Daryl was almost afraid to check the door. If he twisted the handle and it opened, and someone was standing in the hallway, he'd lose his shot at escaping. He had to play it safe. Daryl laid down on the floor, flattening himself as best he could and peeked through the space between the floor and the door. He couldn't see anyone out there. He wished he could hear, but the music drowned out all sound. He paced the room repeatedly and looked through the crack again. He did this several more times until he was sure. Grabbing the doorknob, he turned it and pushed. Hot damn and thank you Joey, the door was unlocked. This was it. This was his chance to escape. He had to get out. He couldn't get caught. This was his only chance, he kept telling himself. Think, think, think. Remember which way to go once he left the room. Remember the turns, the apartment, the exam room, and the door he originally came in through. He couldn't go through the door Dwight had opened earlier today. There were too many people in that area. But that door where he came in the night they brought him here had been a back or side entrance. He remembered the van parking there, and a row of motorcycles. There were plastic rain barrels stacked up and a fence. That's where he needed to get to. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

No one was in the hall, and Daryl slipped out of the cell. He still wore the jumpsuit, but he was barefoot. Didn't matter. He was getting out. He carefully moved down the corridor and saw one of the janitors around the corner. He changed direction and found another clear path. Coming to another corner, Daryl stopped to listen for movement. Someone came out of a doorway. It was Sherry. For a split second, he thought that maybe she was going to help lead him out. She shook her head and whispered into his ear. "You have to go back, Daryl. Whatever he did to you, if he finds you out here, he'll do something worse."

"Death would be better than going back to that room," he said.

"Not death. Something worse. You'll beg for death," Sherry warned.

She's just another scared follower, Daryl thought. She escaped once and came back. Daryl wouldn't be that stupid. He ignored her warning and shuffled around the corner, leaving her behind.

He could see the door, and after watching and waiting for the right opportunity, Daryl slipped outside. Yes, he'd found the side yard, and there were all the bikes. He didn't stop to look for an exit. His first thought was to find a bike with a key in it. There were about five choppers. One of them had to have a key. He went to each one to check, and then his stomach dropped when he heard the sound of the door opening. Negan's thugs started spilling into the yard. Shit, he'd been set up. It was nothing more than a trick. Maybe it was an excuse to kill him. When Negan went to Alexandria, he'd tell them how he kept Daryl alive until he attempted escape, leaving him no choice but to kill him.

There must have been about six or eight thugs, all carrying guns. Daryl was like a trapped stray with nowhere to go. And then out came Negan carrying his bat named Lucille. The sight of it brought back all the shock and pain of that night in the woods. That was the bat that took Abraham and Glenn's lives, and the man who swung the bat. Negan smiled. "Are we pissing our pants yet?"

The Saviors surrounded Daryl and Negan strolled up to him. Daryl's eyes flashed to each man, memorizing faces and weapons. One of the men was Brady, the big burly pervert. The other men, Daryl hadn't seen before. One person that wasn't there was Dwight, and he wondered where he was. Negan's image was burned into his brain, unfortunately. Without looking at his men, Negan asked each one, "Who are you?" Each man replied, "Negan."

"You see there?" Negan said. "I'm everywhere. I'm your worst damn nightmare. I could be your friend, but you got to say the word." Negan paused, but Daryl remained silent. "Not yet, huh? Well, I guess we kind of grow on you after a while. I'm amazed by all these missed opportunities, Daryl. I thought you were smarter than this. Did you really think we'd leave your door open? You see, that was a test to prove you are ready for the next step so we can get you out of that cell and into some shoes, maybe some new clothes. But you failed, and you failed miserably. That leaves us with three options. You can work for me out there, chained to the fence. You can work for points, which is slow going and everyone's least favorite way to do things around here. Or you can work for me, earn some respect, and live like a fucking king." Negan got real close to Daryl's face and spoke softly. "But you gotta say it. Now, I'll ask you one more time. Who … are … you?"

Daryl felt like he was at the end of all things. Say the word, live another day, and conform. Leave everything and everyone he cared about behind just to stay alive. Or remain true to himself and receive the punishment he probably deserved. For a brief instant, he remembered a conversation he had with Aaron. He'd told him that if he died, to know he went down fighting because he would always fight for Aaron. If he said what Negan wanted him to say, he wouldn't be fighting. Remaining silent was his weapon. He would suffer the consequences.

Left without an answer, Negan shook his head as he backed away. His eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Well, there you have it. You know what? Fuck it." In one sudden motion, Negan raised his bat and brought it down towards Daryl's head.

Daryl would not flinch. He would not move or speak. He would not wince or turn away. He would take it, and leave the world the way he said he would live his life from here on out, remaining true to who he was.

Negan stopped just short of bashing in Daryl's head. Daryl's eyes never left Negan's. He didn't even blink. Negan smiled. "Jesus, would you look at this. You ain't afraid of nothing. I am impressed, Daryl. I really am. You boys seeing this shit? Lucky for you, I'm not in a killing mood. Lucille, though, she's a nasty bitch when she doesn't get fed. She's gonna want some kind of retribution. I suggest you get on board because she ain't skipping another meal." He swung the bat so that it rested on his shoulder, and slowly strode away from Daryl. Negan whistled, setting his dogs loose on Daryl. The men surrounding him started punching him, kicking him, clawing at his skin. They beat the shit out of him until his eyes were almost swollen shut and his lips swelled two sizes. His ribs hurt with every breath. He could feel bruises on this legs and arms. His stomach was kicked in several times until he had the wind knocked out of him. By the time they were done with him, he couldn't move. There was blood on the ground from a bloody nose and dirt in his eyes. Someone came up from behind and squeezed the injury on his shoulder, opening up whatever the doctor had done to fix it.

Daryl had to be picked up and dragged back inside. He was close to losing consciousness. He could hardly see who had his arms because of his swollen eyes. He didn't care anymore. He would be glad to be back in his cell where he could lay down and not move anymore. Everything hurt, everything but his stubborn pride. He had stayed true to himself. This he would not bend on. Daryl had lived most of his life as someone he wasn't. Not until he met Aaron did he come out of the shadows and become the man he was always supposed to be. He could never give that up. Even if it was as little as his name, he would not be anything but Daryl. This was what he promised himself. This was what he promised Aaron. It mattered now because of Aaron, who had taught him to be comfortable in his own skin. So if he was going to die because he wouldn't conform to Negan's law, then so be it. This would be his final battle.

He was tossed into the room, and hit the floor like a rag doll. He didn't even move when they kicked him a few more times for good measure. Daryl laid on the floor and took it. He closed his eyes and went to sleep even before they left the room, before he heard the click of the lock or the music started blasting in his ears again. He let the darkness swallow him and prayed for either a miracle or death. He'd take either one, which ever one was fastest.

* * *

Daryl didn't know what time it was or whether it was day or night, but he had a feeling it was very late. The hallway was extremely quiet. There was no sound, which was his first suspicion. The music was off. He was still laying in the same place he was thrown, on his stomach using his arm as a pillow. He faced the back wall of the cell, but that didn't matter with his eyes bruised and swollen. Every muscle in his body refused to work. There was no reason to get up anyway. If Dwight was here to feed him, he could just leave it on the floor.

The music was off for a while, longer than usual. Finally the lock clicked and he heard the door creak as it opened. Daryl didn't move. He just didn't care at this point. He heard footsteps, felt the toe of a boot nudge him in his side. He didn't move.

"Is he dead?" someone asked. Daryl recognized the voice. It was the kid with Rick's gun, Joey.

"Naw. His chest is moving." Daryl recognized that voice too. Brady the brute. What the hell was he doing here?

Daryl felt hands on him and he was turned onto his side facing the open door. Joey was standing just inside the door. It was Brady who turned him. Brady took Daryl's chin in his fingers and moved his head one way and another, as though evaluating him for injury. "They did a number on you, didn't they? Just for the record, I wasn't one of the ones kicking you. Neither was Joey."

"What do you want?" Daryl mumbled.

"Well, we have this little matter to settle about you breaking my nose. I offered to help you advance your way out of this cell, but you turned down my offer. Now the offer is off the table, but you owe me pain and suffering. I'm just here to collect," Brady said silently.

"Don't you touch me," Daryl said, but his words came out slurred. His top lip was swollen three sizes.

"I've never been one for cuddling, so I don't care about touching you." Brady sucked air between his teeth. The high pitched whistle was the same as it was before, and it burned itself into Daryl memory, just as the sound of the leaky faucet did when he was a teen.

Daryl put his hand out and made a poor attempt to push Brady away. "N-No," he said.

"This won't take long and all will be forgiven." Brady pushed Daryl onto his stomach, grabbed at the waistband of his pants and started pulling them down.

Daryl repeatedly said no as he tried to keep his pants on, but Brady pushed his hands away. Daryl hadn't an ounce of energy left in him, but he fought with what little he had. He managed to scratch Brady's arm, but that made the situation worse.

"Goddammit! Stop fighting me," Brady said through clenched teeth.

Daryl kicked his legs and waved his arms. Brady deflected every move. Daryl was too slow and weak to fight, but he wouldn't stop trying. He felt his pants come all the way off, felt Brady's knees push his thighs open, one of his hands digging into his back to keep him anchored to the floor. He heard the sound of a belt buckle come undone, a zipper sliding down, and the rustle of cotton as Brady slipped his cock out of his pants.

"Hey man! What the fuck are you doing?" Joey said, his voice going high with fear.

"What do you think I'm doing? You gonna stand there and watch or you gonna close the fucking door?" Brady shot back.

Joey, Daryl remembered, the kid who didn't want to get in trouble. He was all Daryl had now. He was still fighting Brady off of him, but Brady was too big and strong, and in Daryl's condition, he just couldn't take him on. He felt his legs spread even further apart. It was hurting his ribs to have his torso shoved against the concrete floor. He tried lifting his head twice, but each time, Brady's hand pushed his face down hard, further injuring the swelled and bruised skin. The third time, he managed to turn his head so that he could look at Joey. Brady smacked his head down again, and this time he held his hand there as he started to cover Daryl's body with his own. He made eye contact with Joey, tears falling and pooling on the dirty floor as he gave him a pleading look of desperation.

"P-Please? Help m-me?" Daryl cried softly. Brady's weight was making it difficult to get air into his lungs.

Joey looked scared. He looked like he knew he should do something, but he was scared of everything and everyone. Who knew what Brady held over Joey's head to get him agree to be the look out. And then there was Negan, and everyone was afraid of him. But this was Daryl's last effort.

"P-Please? H-help? P-please?" Daryl said again. That earned him another blow to the head, as he felt Brady's fist connect with his cheek.

"Close the fucking door and do as we agreed. Don't leave that spot until I come out," Brady said, reminding Joey of their deal.

Joey looked at Brady until Brady turned his attention back to Daryl. Then he looked at Daryl with pity and apology, shook his head and started to close the door. "I'm sorry," he whispered, looking away.

"No! Nooo!" Daryl cried. The lock clicked. The music came on. Brady climbed on top of him, spit in his hand and started.

Daryl was between worlds. He could smell the gasoline and grease of the garage where he was raped as a teen mix with his own stench and the dampness of the cell. He felt Brady forcing his body to its limits, but he saw Jay instead. It was as if he was that pitiful teenager again. He couldn't fight back then, and he couldn't now. There was no use fighting now. Brady was already in him, pumping, not caring if he was hurting Daryl or not. Amazingly, Daryl shut out the pain. He practically gave up, and laid there lifeless beneath his rapist.

"Call me by his name," Brady said. When Daryl didn't answer, he stopped pumping and slapped him in the head. "I know what it is. It's Aaron. I heard Dwight mention it."

"Fuck you," Daryl said.

Brady produced a switchblade and jabbed the point into Daryl's ribs. "You're gonna say all those things you say to him as you're fucking him. I want to hear it. I want you to think of him as I come in your ass."

"No," Daryl said weakly. The point of the blade cut through his shirt and sliced his skin.

"I'll cut you up. I'll make it look like self defense. Joey will be my witness. And you'll be getting your head fucked by Lucille. Now call me Aaron."

The knife slipped into his skin, slow like hot steel. "Aaron," Daryl said, finally giving up.

"Say it again, but this time with feeling," Brady said.

"Aaron," Daryl said again, but not much different from the first time.

"Oh yeah, keep it up," Brady said in a breathy whisper as he picked up his rhythm again.

Daryl repeated Aaron's name while Brady increased his rhythm. He was crying now, and he felt sick every time he said Aaron's name because it excited Brady even more. Daryl tried to force himself to be somewhere else, but as he said Aaron's name, all he saw was the man he loved and trusted. He closed his eyes and saw Aaron, and all the times he was there for him. He watched their relationship play out in his head, the first time they met when Aaron was sent to follow Daryl while he hunted. Rabbits, Aaron had told him. He'd been hunting rabbits. They laughed about that even now.

Then he was at Deanna's dinner party, afraid to go inside. Aaron had seen him, had told him not to feel bad. At least he had tried, and that's all anyone could do, Aaron told him.

He saw the cabin when they first found it, remembered the conversations they had, the way they laughed and got to know each other better. Daryl remembered the way Aaron stirred all those emotions that Daryl had kept hidden for so many years. Aaron made it okay to feel admiration for another man. That feeling deepened day by day until he finally gave Aaron his body, his heart and his soul.

"Do you love him?" Brady whispered sweetly in Daryl's ear.

"I do," Daryl answered, still in a dream world where he wasn't being raped.

"Tell him," Brady coaxed, going deep.

"I love you," Daryl said, and all he saw was Aaron holding him, making all the bad go away. "I love you, Aaron, and I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Brady's body went rigid and stilled as he came. Daryl felt the hot spurt inside him, felt the pulsating of the man's cock. Bile rose from his stomach. His mouth began watering and saliva trailed from the corner of his mouth. And then he heaved and vomited the contents of what was left of the dogfood sandwiches he'd been fed earlier. Brady was already climbing off of him. Daryl could hear the man zip up his pants and fasten his buckle. He stood over Daryl and spit on the side of his face. The music turned off, the door unlocked, and he rolled his eyes.

"Dammit, I told you not to do anything until I knocked three times," he complained to Joey through the closed door. "Lucky for you, I'm done here anyway." Brady turned back to Daryl and crouched down. "You're one pitiful fuck and a sorry-ass excuse for a lay," Brady insulted him as the door creaked open. "But you're my bitch now. You tell anyone about this, and I'll–"

"You'll what?"

Brady froze at the sound of the voice that spoke. It wasn't Joey. Brady jumped to his feet and stood silent.

"Go on. I'd like to know what it is you don't want him telling anyone," Negan said.

"Oh, uh … I … I didn't hear you … uh … I was informed that the prisoner was … uh … that he was being unruly, and I came in here to put a stop to it," Brady said, stumbling over his words. "I may have gotten a little rougher than I meant to get. That's all."

"Is that so?" Negan glanced down at Daryl, saw the vomit, the blood stain on the side of his shirt and at his shoulder, and realized his pants were off. Daryl watched the scene unfold from his spot on the floor. Negan's eyes narrowed as he stared at Brady. "Please tell me what I'm seeing is not what I think I'm seeing."

"I told you, he was out of control. Took his pants off and tried to strangle me with them," Brady lied.

"My guys just beat the shit out of him. I don't think he can lift his head up much less attack you." Negan walked up to Brady and shoved him backwards until his back was against the cell wall. Lucille came up to Brady's throat, the barbed wire making punctures in the skin of his neck. "Did you rape this man?" Negan asked, pronouncing each word meticulously slow.

"No," Brady said much too fast, his voice higher than normal.

"Because you know I don't tolerate that kind of shit around here."

"It's like I said," Brady explained. "He was out of control. I had to neutralize the situation."

"Uh huh," Negan said with suspicion. He turned his head to the side, but kept his eyes on Brady. "Daryl, did this man rape you?"

Daryl started to answer, but the bile stuck in his throat made him cough and he thought he might vomit again. He tried again when he caught his breath. "Y-yes," he managed to get out.

Negan's full attention went back to Brady. "What do the rules say?"

"Absolutely no tolerance for rape," Brady answered. "But I didn't–"

"That's not what Daryl says. And I gotta say, it kind of looks like you did, Brady."

"He's lying," Brady said to try and save his skin.

Negan called out to two men who must have been in the hall waiting for instructions. They came around the corner and entered the room. Negan had a few last things to say. "You know, I've heard rumors about you, but I don't take rumors seriously, and nobody came forward to make an official complaint against you. I'm thinking that they weren't rumors at all." Negan pushed Lucille against Brady's neck until he started choking. "Take Brady out to the yard and chain him up," he commanded the two guards.

"What? No! You can't do that. Daryl's lying. Please, sir. I told you the truth," Brady begged as the two men took him by his arms and yanked him from the cell. Daryl could hear him pleading as he was led down the hallway.

When they were gone, Negan called for another man to come in. Daryl could see a slim man with a mop in his hand, one of the janitors. He must have been passing by and Negan caught a glimpse of him. "I need you to go get the Doc. Tell him to bring his bag."

"Yes sir," the janitor bowed and hurried off.

Now it was just Negan and Daryl. Negan stood over Daryl, looking him over. "I'm sorry, Daryl. This kind of thing is not allowed, not between men, not between women. Doesn't matter if you're one of my top men or someone like you, the dregs of our society. Rape is NOT allowed at the Sanctuary. Brady will be dealt with accordingly. I just want you to know that he'll pay for his crime." Negan spoke with sincerity, and Daryl believed him. Not that it really mattered now.

The deed was done. Daryl was a broken man, once more. He'd sworn that no one would ever take advantage of him again. He thought he was strong. He always imagined that he'd kill anyone that tried. He hadn't planned on being starved and beaten close to death. He couldn't protect himself. He felt useless and small. His confidence was gone. Maybe he'd been fooling himself all this time. Maybe he wasn't a changed man. He was still the pitiful kid who let someone have his way with him.

The doctor came into the room with his bag and a blanket. He gasped slightly at the site of Daryl lying face down on the floor, then he looked at Negan for an explanation. "I'm about to punish one of my guys, and I need confirmation that I'm within my right to do so."

The doctor glanced down to see Daryl's bare body from the waist down. He knew what he was here for. "Does he have any other injuries?"

"There's fresh blood on his side, and his shoulder wound looks like it might have opened back up," Negan said. Not all of the wounds were from Brady. Negan had been responsible too, when he unleashed his hounds on him in the yard. The doctor would not question Negan's methods for punishment. He was only here to patch up any of the damage because an injured man couldn't work.

The doctor knelt down next to Daryl and lifted his shirt. Daryl jumped at his touch. "It's all right. I just need to see what's going on here. Yes, looks like a knife wound, not too deep. The bleeding's already slowed. He'll just need a couple stitches." The doctor pulled the shirt back down and uncovered part of his shoulder. "Looks like he'll need a few up here too." He sighed and whispered to Daryl. "I'm sorry, but I need to check you … down there."

Daryl didn't care. Let the man do whatever he needed to do. He felt the doctors gloved hands nudge the inside of his thighs. Daryl spread them slightly. He felt the doctor spread his cheeks, careful not to touch him anywhere sensitive. That was it and he was done. He stood up and spoke to Negan.

"I'm afraid there is definite evidence that this man was recently raped," the doctor said with his diagnosis.

"Thanks Doc. Fix him up. You can leave him the blanket. Harry, go bring a couple bottles of water, and then get Guy. Tell him he's on guard duty outside this door. No one in or out except for me or Dwight," Negan ordered.

"Yes sir," Harry said and he ran off to perform his duties.

"You okay here, Doc?" Negan asked.

"I'm fine. I don't believe the patient has enough strength to do anything," the doctor said as Negan left the cell. The doctor helped Daryl get his pants back on. He stitched up the wounds to his shoulder and side, looked at his swollen lip and his black eyes. There wasn't anything he could do for those, unfortunately. By the time he was done, the man named Guy arrived. The doctor got Daryl into a sitting position and put the blanket over him. Then he gently patted Daryl's arm. "Don't worry. Negan will take care of you."

The doctor had said that to him before, Daryl remembered, and now he was in even worse shape. Daryl glanced at the doctor. "I'm beginning to question his methods for recovery."

The doctor left the room. The door closed. The lock clicked. The music didn't come on. Finally, peace and quiet. "Maybe I'll die in my sleep," Daryl thought to himself as he lost consciousness.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43 You Can't Go Home Again**

Daryl had finally slept, but he woke with an aching body and a shattered soul. He forced himself to sit up, back against the wall in his usual spot in the corner. The light that came in under the door was bright. Before it had been muted because only half the lights in the hall were on. Bright light meant that it was another day, and the workers were going about their business.

The swelling in his lip had gone down, but they were still cracked and raw. His eyes weren't as puffy, but it felt like his eye sockets were cracked. He reached for a water bottle and let the water drip into his mouth, wincing every time he moved his lips. Wounds that were beginning to seal opened again. It wasn't the first time he'd been beat like that. His father had done a number on him once or twice, and he knew it would eventually feel better. Unfortunately, there were other parts of his body that hurt, and they were reminders of what happened to him recently. He realized that the pain meant he was alive. It wasn't a dream and he wasn't dead. He was still in the cell. He'd been raped … again, this time by a stranger, but it hurt no less. Daryl wondered what Negan did to Brady, but he didn't think about it for too long. He tried to think of home, but that made him feel worse. He was responsible for Glenn's death. That was something he managed to always push away. It was easy to say that it was Negan who did the deed, and forget that it was Daryl's attempt to hit Negan that made the man lash out and kill his friend. He switched his thoughts to Aaron, but that was most painful. Daryl had said so many hurtful things.

He could end it all. It wouldn't take much to get Negan to use Lucille on him. He'd been warned a couple times now, and he didn't think Negan would give him a third chance. The man just didn't seem like the kind to not act on his threats. Why was he keeping Daryl alive? He'd been tortured, starved and raped. It wouldn't take much, he said to himself, and Negan would end it all. At one time, he wanted to go home. He wanted to see Aaron again, to see his friends. Now, he didn't think he could face anyone. He had failed as a friend, as a lover, as a human. He had been stubborn, just like always, and it came back to kick his ass.

The door unlocked and opened and Dwight came in. He looked at Daryl before he spoke. "Sorry, man," he said. "I … I hope you're not–"

"Fuck you," Daryl said with little effort, as though it was an afterthought.

Dwight didn't say anything more about it. "Get up."

Daryl struggled to his feet and glared at Dwight.

Dwight gestured to the door. "Go."

Daryl walked past Dwight, and was caught by the neck of his shirt, led down the hall and around the corner. He recognized this part of the facility. Near the end of this section was where that efficiency apartment was. That was exactly where Dwight led him. Negan was inside, sitting in the chair with his feet up. When Dwight and Daryl walked into the room, Negan stood and smiled. He had his bat. He was never without Lucille. Daryl stared straight ahead as Negan approached, settling in front of him. The man was thin but tall, taller than Daryl by about a head.

"Let me start by saying that what happened last night was unacceptable, and Brady has been dealt with. You don't have to worry about him again." Negan paused to see what Daryl's reaction would be, but Daryl had none. Negan shrugged and continued. "Now, let me explain the way things work around here. Everyone earns their keep, from the youngest to the oldest, except for babies. I mean, what the fuck can a baby do, right?" Negan smiled and laughed at his own joke. He was the only one. "There are different ways to earn your keep, and a lot of that depends on how useful you are to me. Some people simply work for points. It can work as long as you don't get behind. Everything cost points. Points add up. Once you get behind in points, you keep going in a downward spiral until you're so far in debt you can't get yourself out of it. If you stay on top of it, and only take what is necessary, you won't have a problem. For those who go into deep debt, they end up on perimeter duty. Dwight here showed you a glimpse of that. You saw all those corpses outside, no doubt. Those guys you saw, dressed like you, putting uglies on the fence, they're examples of what happens when you get behind. They're earning their points back slowly."

Negan glanced at Dwight and ordered him to get Daryl a glass of water. Dwight obeyed, getting a glass out of the cabinet, filling it at the sink, and then handing it to Daryl. Daryl held the glass, but he didn't drink. He was beginning to figure Negan out. Water probably cost points. If he downed the water, it would show Negan that he might not have self-control.

"Dwight, here, used to work for points. He came here with his wife, Sherry and her sister, but sissy needed medicine, and that costs a lot of points. Dwight got behind and couldn't catch up, but I liked Dwight. I saw his potential, so I made him a deal. I'd marry sissy and take care of her. Sissy didn't much like that idea. Next thing I know, Dwight stole the medicine and took off with Sherry and my soon to be bride." Negan paused to glare at Dwight. Dwight looked away. "He smartened up and came back, but the rules had been broken, AND I find out that my bride is dead." Negan paused, and as though Daryl responded to this devastating news, he said, "I know, right? That fucking sucked because sissy was fucking hot. Anyway, this left me with only one choice … to kill Dwight. And then I got Sherry coming to me, begging me not to kill him." Negan smiled and leaned in toward Daryl's ear. "She said she'd marry me if I let Dwight live." He laughed. "And you saw Sherry. She's just as hot as her sister was. I can't turn down that kind of shit, and like I said, I liked Dwight, so I took the deal. However, there was still a debt to be paid and poor Dwight faced the iron." Negan laughed and rubbed the side of his face. "Get it? Faced … the iron?"

Daryl stared straight ahead, but now he knew what happened to the side of Dwight's face. When he'd met him in the woods he didn't have the distorted, horrific looking skin. Now it all made sense.

Negan looked back and forth between Dwight and Daryl, still chuckling at his joke, but when no one shared his humor, he shook his head. "Tough crowd." He turned and walked a few steps away, swinging Lucille at his side. "Well, I'm glad I didn't kill Dwight because he's one of my top guys. He works hard for me, and I like that. I like his wife too. I mean, my wife." Negan stopped and turned to glance over his shoulder at Dwight again. Then he turned to Daryl. "You see, there are a select number of people here at the Sanctuary that work directly for me. They are my muscle. They ARE me. And they live like kings. You, Daryl, have what it takes to be one of my lead guys. You could have this very room that we're standing in. It's all yours, but you just have to do one thing for me." Negan closed in on Daryl and got in his face. "I think you know what that is." He brought Lucille up to his shoulder, making her visible. "Who are you?" he whispered to Daryl.

This was what Daryl was waiting for. This was his way out of the situation. As he laid on the cold floor of his dirty cell, he thought to defy Negan and let him bash his head in. It would be over. No more suffering. No more feeling like a failure. No more Alexandria or its people. Carol, Rick, Caleb, Maggie, and all those who he knew cared about him, they wouldn't have to worry about facing Daryl after all the mistakes he'd made. But it was the thought of Aaron that sparked a light anew within his heart. They would never have another moment together, never hear him laugh, see him smile. Daryl would never get the chance to tell him and show him how sorry he was, how wrong he was. It suddenly wasn't enough to mouth those words across a forest while surrounded by the enemy. He wanted to look deep into his eyes and tell him in person. To stay alive now would mean to give in to Negan, and Daryl couldn't do that either. He would be going back on a promise he made to Aaron, to always fight until he had not one more breath in his lungs. To defy Negan was to fight.

"I'll ask you one more time," Negan said. Now he was directly in front of Daryl, face to face. "Who … are … you?"

Daryl prepared for what might happen. This could very well be his end, but he wouldn't die because he gave up. If he died right now, it would be because he would never give up. He rolled his eyes up to meet Negan's. "Daryl," he answered, solid, definite.

Dwight took a step towards Daryl. "Man, you're gonna–"

"Hold on there D," Negan said to stop him. "He made his choice. Not my fault it was a dumbass choice. I guess we're done here. Take him back."

Dwight pushed Daryl down the hall, making him stumble along the way. He shoved him inside the cell once they reached the open door. Daryl fell to the floor and crawled his way into the corner. Dwight stepped out of the room and came right back in with something in his hand, another dogfood sandwich.

"Negan wants you to eat. Says you're going to need your strength." Dwight held the sandwich out, but Daryl wouldn't take it. Dwight dropped in on the floor instead. Daryl wouldn't move from his corner, or look at Dwight. Dwight seemed angry at him, as though he was hoping Daryl wouldn't fall for the trick, escape from the cell and get caught in the yard. He wondered if it was Dwight that sent Sherry to warn him not to go. Was it possible that Dwight was feeling a little guilty? After all, Daryl had tried to help him in the burnt woods. He fought with him as he tried to run from the Saviors. In the end, Dwight knew he couldn't get away, so he took advantage of Daryl's kindness and left him with nothing. When they met again, it had been Dwight who killed Denise, killed her with his own crossbow. The arrow should have been for Daryl, and he knew that now, but Dwight didn't take that shot. He could have. It was an ambush. Daryl was out in the open. Dwight had a third opportunity to kill Daryl, when he captured him along with Rosita, Michonne and Glenn. Instead, he shot Daryl in the shoulder, incapacitating him because Dwight knew Daryl would fight back. Injured as he was, there wasn't much chance of him acting out and getting himself killed by Negan. As much as he hated Dwight, there was always an underlying tone of remorse, as though he hadn't been able to pay Daryl back for the help he supplied in the burnt out forest. If he really wanted to pay Daryl back, he could do it by helping him out of this place, but just like everyone else, Dwight was scared. Right now he was angry.

Dwight sighed and stared down at Daryl. "You got your friend killed. I got Tina killed. Let's not pretend like we don't know the score. I'd say we're even about now."

Guess I was wrong about him, Daryl thought, but didn't say it aloud. The score wasn't even, not by a long shot. Daryl had lost a lot more people than Dwight, all because of Dwight too. Daryl picked up the sandwich and threw it at Dwight. Dwight flinched just in time.

"Negan's giving you a chance or you'd be dead right now," Dwight yelled with anger. "It's pretty easy. Just answer his fucking question and you're out of here. What's done is done. It's time that you realized that," Dwight said.

"I know why you're pissed at me. It's because you wanted to defy Negan. You wanted to do what I just did, but you're too chicken shit to do it. Instead of fighting, you ran back here like a little bitch and suffered the consequences." Daryl spoke in a quiet and calm tone, further infuriating Dwight.

"You should be dead, but for some reason, Negan's taken a shine to you. Don't you see that? You're already further along than most who come through here. The choice is simple, Daryl. You're either in that comfy room or you're hanging on the fence." Dwight glared at Daryl, and shook his head in frustration.

"I get it," Daryl said softly. "I get why you took my shit. I get why you came back, and why you bow down to Negan. You did it because you were thinking of someone else. That's why I can't."

Dwight huffed and shook his head. For a moment he looked like he was considering whether or not to continue with his next move. Daryl had gotten to him, he could tell, but Dwight was a tough motherfucker. He took something out of his pocket, reached across Daryl, and taped it to the wall. "Maybe this will help you decide if it's worth it to go home now. Just remember, we don't hold things against you here. We don't judge. Can you say the same about your home and your people?" Dwight left the room, and the music returned, but a new song was playing, a sad song.

Daryl glanced at the picture, but it was too dark to see it. He yanked it off the wall and laid it on the floor in the light that spilled in from underneath. It was a gruesome scene, blood, flesh and bone, unrecognizable except for his shirt. It was Glenn.

Daryl could feel the disgust eating away at his heart. If only he had contained his anger, Glenn would still be alive. That thought brought on a memory of a conversation he had with Glenn, just before Dwight captured all of them. Daryl was heading out to find Dwight and seek revenge for Denise's death. Glenn was trying to stop him. He had said that Daryl's callous decision and one track mind was going to get him killed. He was right, except that it wasn't Daryl who died.

Daryl dropped the picture, and felt the tears welling up. "This was my fault." Maybe he deserved everything that happened to him. He was a worthless shit, only good enough to be used as a piece of ass. Why would anyone want to associate with him now? Even Aaron couldn't possibly want him back damaged and feeling sorry for himself. Was this all he was good for now? Perhaps he should listen to Dwight and take a chance here. Negan would have killed him by now, that's for sure, but he was still here. What did it matter now? It wasn't a lie when he told Dwight he was being defiant because he was thinking of someone else. He was thinking of Maggie and how he wouldn't be able to face her disappointment in him. He was the reason her child wouldn't have a father. Daryl was thinking of Aaron, and how he could ever face him again, knowing he let another man have his way. Daryl had given up at that point. If he really cared, he would have fought harder. He should have killed Brady. He should have begged Joey harder, but he had given up. "I broke my promise to you," he said to Aaron's memory. "I didn't try, and that's all you ever wanted me to do." No one would want him now. Even he couldn't stand himself anymore.

* * *

The next day, Dwight came into the room. Daryl was face down on the floor, the uneaten sandwich still in the same place where it landed after throwing it, Glenn's picture still laying in the filtering light from under the door. There was a pool of vomit near Daryl's head, just liquid stomach bile. The room smelled of it.

"Time to get up," Dwight said, but Daryl didn't move. "Come on. It's time to go on a little road trip."

Dwight had to practically haul Daryl up on his own. Daryl was dead weight and not doing anything to help himself up. Dwight worked in silence, but he called in another man to help him since Daryl wasn't cooperating. They pulled Daryl from his cell and directed him down the hall. They opened a door that led to the outside, and walked along a breezeway that overlooked the perimeter fence. Daryl noticed a few fresh corpses, and one in particular. There was no mistaking the gruff beard, and dark hair sleeked back into a ponytail. He was chained to the fence, blood staining the side of his shirt and the front of his pants. Daryl stared at him, and noticed that his pants were unzipped. The extreme amount of blood in the area suggested that his prick had been cut off. Daryl hadn't any doubt that this was done while the man was still alive. Eventually he must have been stabbed in the side and put out of his misery. He was still working for Negan, but now he was a chained walker, protecting the outer perimeter of the Sanctuary.

"It was pretty nasty what Negan did to him," Dwight explained. "Forced Brady to take his dick out in front of everyone. He teased it with Lucille until Brady couldn't take the wire cutting him anymore. Then, Negan pulled out a machete and … WACK. From a rooster to a hen in two seconds flat. I ain't never heard a man scream like that. Made my own balls shrink up and disappear like a turtle hiding in its shell."

Daryl was glad he was dead, but he wished he had been the one to do it. He felt cheated, just as he had when Jay ran away after assaulting him, afraid of what Daryl's father would do to him if he found out about the attack. He watched Brady's corpse as it clawed at the fence. The dead white eyes looked back at him and Daryl was back in the cell with the man pounding roughly into him, making him whisper Aaron's name. Until that moment, Daryl had been able to separate his stable life in Alexandria from the thugs who took him. Brady had brought Alexandria to the cell. He had brought Aaron into his thoughts, and now he was having a difficult time dividing the two, the good and the bad. Maybe that would all change if he ever saw Aaron again.

"Alright, let's not dilly dally," Dwight said as he tugged on Daryl's arm.

"Where are we going?" Daryl asked.

"We're taking you home."

Daryl stared at Dwight, hope returning to his eyes. "Home?" Daryl asked, wanting Dwight to tell him his time here was over.

Dwight smiled. "Yeah. Home." His smile turned to a frown. "Oh, but not … Did you think … Sorry, that was misleading. We're going to Alexandria. Negan wants to check in on Rick and your people. You're coming along just in case Negan isn't happy with the load, or if Rick decides to try something. There are a few rules you need to follow, so listen carefully. When we get there, you're not to say a fucking word. You do exactly what Negan tells you to do. Your people try to get you away from us, you're dead. Your boyfriend tries anything, you're dead. You try to escape, you're boyfriend's dead. I think you see how this is going to work. You do what you're told. It's that simple." Dwight glanced past Daryl's shoulder and gave someone a nod. Someone came up from behind and covered Daryl's head with a black cloth bag. He was led to a truck and forced into the back. He felt a wooden bench beneath him when he sat down. The truck was open. It wasn't the box van that originally brought him here. He could tell that Dwight sat next to him because he recognized the grip on his arm. Several engines cranked up, more vans. They were going to Alexandria to collect on their deal to take half of their stuff. Daryl remembered Negan telling Rick that he would give him a week. It hadn't been that long yet. Was Negan setting Alexandria up for failure by arriving early? Would he use this as his reason to kill Daryl in front of everyone? Daryl's mind constantly went back and forth on whether or not he wanted to die, but he knew he didn't want his friends and the ones he loved to watch it, not in the way he had to watch Abraham and Glenn die. He would have to swallow his stubbornness and follow the rules, and hope Rick would do the same.

He couldn't see, but Daryl could tell it was a long way from the Sanctuary to Alexandria. He tried to remember how long it took to get to Hilltop, and started trying to figure out distances in his head. If only he could see, but the bag over his head kept him in complete darkness. He tried to keep track of turns and direction, but Daryl wasn't well enough to count. His mind wandered too easily. He thought about seeing Aaron. He thought about Maggie's reaction, or Rick, or Sasha, or any of them for that matter. He was afraid to see their faces, their disappointment or pity. Maybe they wouldn't look at him, disgusted by what he'd been responsible for. Maybe they blamed him. He could take it if they judged him in that way, but if Aaron looked at him with blame, or if he couldn't look at him at all, Daryl's world would be completely destroyed. Negan might as well kill him at that point, because he wouldn't want to live any longer.

The truck came to a stop along with all the other vehicles. Daryl was yanked out of the back of the truck. He still wore the dirty jumpsuit with the red letter A. He was still barefoot, and his face was still swollen and bruised from the beating he received. He still smelled of Brady's stench, and of vomit and dogfood, all the things that had been his world lately. He felt marked, like he no longer belonged in Alexandria. Daryl belonged to Negan now, and that was the point Negan would make today.

The black hood came off, and Daryl shielded his eyes from the sun until they adjusted. Slowly, the front gate came into focus. He could see Negan tapping it with Lucille. The solid part of the gate slid to the side and he could see Spencer talking to Negan before he pulled on the iron bars, sliding the remaining gate out of the way. Daryl glanced around him. There must have been about thirty Saviors standing behind Negan, waiting for their orders. Daryl was among them, and Dwight was right next to him, his keeper, he thought.

Daryl could see Rosita and Eugene. He saw Tobin and a few other Alexandrians walking out to see their guests. Pushing through them and coming out front was Rick. He went straight up to Negan. Negan smiled and they exchanged words. Rick complained that he was early, and that they hadn't had enough time to gather all of the supplies they needed. Negan let it slide, but he'd get his half one way or another. Rick looked completely off guard. There was fear and hate in his eyes, dancing together, one overpowering the other going back and forth. Rick scanned the group of Saviors outside the gate, and then he connected with Daryl.

Daryl felt his body shake uncontrollably. He blinked and tried not to look at Rick for too long, fearing what he would find. But Rick looked at him like a brother he hadn't seen in a long time. He started walking towards him. "Daryl," he called out, but Negan stopped him.

"There will be absolutely not talking or interaction of any kind with the prisoner or I'm going to make you start cutting pieces from him," Negan warned, and Rick stopped in his tracks.

"What have you done to him?" Rick demanded. He'd seen Daryl's injuries no doubt.

"Are you going to give me a tour or what?" Negan smiled, ignoring Rick's question. "After all, I've come all this way. It's only right that you let me in to see what kind of a place you've got here, Rick." Negan made a gesture with his hand, signaling for the rest of his people to come inside. They all advanced together, even Daryl with Dwight as his escort. Negan started barking out orders. "Check all the houses. Half of everything. That's the deal, Rick. Oh, you thought I just meant food didn't you? Well, for our initial visit, we like to see what all you have, and by the looks of this place, you've got way more shit than you need. I'll tell you what, we won't take any of your food. You're going to need it." Negan turned to his people. "Everyone knows what to do."

"Move," Dwight said to Daryl. "And remember the rules." They walked into the town, and as they passed Rick, Daryl made sure not to make eye contact. Last time Daryl ignored an order, he got his friend killed. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. He did, however, allow himself to sweep his sight from side to side as he looked for Aaron. He needed to see him, but he wasn't among the crowd of Alexandrians. His biggest fear was for Aaron to try to come to him, and fight anyone who got in his way. Daryl knew he could get a message to Aaron with just a look, to warn him not to try anything foolish. Where was he? He didn't see him anywhere, and his heart beat uncontrollably.

Negan was talking to Rick outside the gates, swinging his bat at a walker and making jokes about it. Rick looked like someone Daryl didn't know. He'd never seen the man behave in a submissive manor such as this. It made Daryl worry about the future of Alexandria. Maybe Negan was truly their leader now.

"So this is the place you told me about," Dwight said from beside Daryl. "Back when we met in the woods, and you said you had a place with people and food."

"This is the place," Daryl answered quietly.

Dwight glanced around at the houses that lined the road. "It's nice."

"It used to be," Daryl said.

"And it will continue to be as long as Rick keeps doing his part for Negan. That's how it works now."

"Yeah, I know how it works," Daryl said in a low tone. "It's Negan's world. He just lets us live in it."

"Is it really that bad of a life? I mean, look at me. I've got power. I've got people working under me. If I want something, I just take it, no questions asked," Dwight said.

"At what price," Daryl countered. "You don't have a family. You lost your woman to Negan. What do you have to fight for if you don't have someone to share the rewards with? So, you got food and shelter, and you can boss people around. I had that too, but I had someone to love also. That's what's worth fighting for."

"Oh yeah? Then where's your man?" Dwight said angrily. "Don't think I didn't notice he's not here to see you. And if I notice, Negan's already known it since we walked through the gate."

Daryl had been wondering that exact thing since he arrived. What if something happened to him? He couldn't ask anyone because he wasn't allowed to have words with his people. Daryl hadn't seen Aaron since that night in the woods. Aaron had been on his knees crying out for the Saviors to not take Daryl. Was he punished for his outburst? Panic set his nerves in action, and he began to shake again. If Aaron was … was dead, and all this time he hadn't known, then Daryl didn't want to live any longer.

"Which house is yours?" Dwight asked.

"Down that way," Daryl nodded with his head. "Third one."

"Then that's where we'll start." Dwight called out to a couple men near him and they all walked to Daryl and Aaron's house. There were Saviors all over Alexandria, ransacking houses, walking out with dishes and figurines, furniture, clothes, food, books. Name it, they were taking it.

They entered the house, and Dwight looked in awe. "Wow, this is where you live?" He went to the kitchen turned on the sink faucet. "Shit, you don't just have running water. You have HOT water." From the kitchen, he could see into the laundry room. "You got a washer and dryer too. Damn man, you live like some rich asshole. And look at this." Dwight went to the fridge and pushed on the handle that produced ice. It spilled out onto the floor. "Goddamn, I haven't had ice water in ages."

Daryl stood in the foyer, the space between the kitchen and the living room. He watched as the men that came with them started pulling books off of shelves, quickly looking through each one and throwing it on the floor. They were looking for stash of any kind, possibly weapons. Lucky for them, all of Alexandria's weapons had been checked in at the pantry and were accounted for.

The men picked up the antiques that Aaron had collected over the years, and tossed them onto the floor. They kept a few items to load onto the trucks, but they were doing more damage than anything else.

"That your couch?" Dwight said, coming up from behind Daryl. "Bet you and your man used to sit there and talk, cuddle, and … other things."

He was getting into Daryl's head, making him remember the good times with Aaron. Daryl tried not to show any emotion. Dwight gestured to the couch and ordered the men to take it out to the road where one of the trucks would pick it up. They did as they were told while Dwight pulled pots and pans from the cabinets. They were taking practically everything. They cleaned out the office, taking books and chairs. And then Dwight ordered the men to go upstairs. "Come on, Daryl. Show me around." He pushed Daryl toward the stairs and followed him up.

The first room was the bedroom. Most everything in there came with the house, except for Aaron's clothes and a few personal items on the dresser. Daryl wished he could bury his face in one of the shirts and remember what Aaron smelled like. It had been too long, and this might be all that was left to remember him by if . . .

"Look at this bed. Is that a king? I think … no … I know that would look good in my room. A four poster bed frame and … is this mahogany?" Dwight tossed himself onto the bed. "It's pure heaven. I like it. I think I'm keeping this. Boys, take the mattress," Dwight ordered.

Daryl looked at the bed, remembering all the mornings waking up next to Aaron, and the times when they just laid there and talked and laughed. It had been such a long journey for them both, from the time they met, the trust they'd built between them, their first time making love, the first time Daryl stayed all night, when he moved in. They'd been so happy together. Why did he mistreat Aaron in their last days together? Why did he have to behave like a jealous prick and accuse Aaron of sleeping with Jesus? Why did he have to go and ruin it all? Now Daryl was the ruined one, and Aaron was gone.

Dwight ordered Daryl to carry some things downstairs. They took most of the belongings from the house. The kitchen was emptied. The living room was bare except for the things they dropped on the floor. They even raided the garage, and took all of the tools and bike parts.

"That reminds me," Dwight said to himself. He took Daryl by the collar of his shirt and led him out of the house. They made their way back toward the gate where everyone was standing in the street and watching a conversation between Negan and Rick. Dwight left Daryl with a group of Saviors and he went off to talk to Rosita. Daryl turned his attention to the crowd and scanned the faces for Aaron. He was nowhere to be seen.

"He's one of my best runners," Rick was saying. This caught Daryl's attention. "But it's been difficult to find supplies lately. We've already cleaned out the nearby places. He probably had to go further out."

"I'd think he would want to be here, especially since I brought his man for a visit," Negan said, looking through the crowd and settling his eyes on Daryl.

"You said a week. You're early," Rick answered.

"There's another one not here, the chick with the dreadlocks," Negan hinted.

"Michonne. She's with Aaron. They're both out looking for stuff for you," Rick told him.

"Well, I guess I can't be upset about that. It's good to see you're making an effort so early in the game. I thought I was going to have to kill someone today. Of course, the day is still early," Negan smiled. He turned to Daryl. "Shucks, I guess we don't get a reunion today."

So, Aaron was out on a run with Michonne. That seemed odd to Daryl. Michonne didn't normally go on supply runs, and as long as they had lived in Alexandria, she'd never been on one with Aaron. Daryl got a strange feeling in his gut that Rick was lying. It was a dangerous move on his part. Where were Aaron and Michonne then? Daryl didn't think they were out finding supplies. Something else was in motion, some plan had been drawn up. Aaron wasn't here. As a matter of fact, he hadn't been here since they left with Maggie to get her to Hilltop. The night before everything went to hell, Daryl had been with Aaron. It hurt his heart to think about it. They'd had their worst argument ever. Daryl even moved out of the house. His mind was filled with rage and revenge. All he wanted to do was find Dwight and rip his heart out for killing Denise. His anger toward Aaron had been a side effect. He knew he was wrong, but he was too angry to apologize. His anger sparked a strange lust, and he went to Aaron in the middle of the night, laid with him, made him stay silent, and made love to him. As soon as Aaron fell asleep, Daryl left to pack up his belongings, get his bike and head out hunting for Denise's killer. He remembered seeing Aaron's heavy jacket flung over a chair in the bedroom. It was still there now, untouched since that night. Aaron left Alexandria in a hurry when Maggie got sick, and he didn't come back for his jacket. He always wore that jacket when he knew he was going to be gone for a while. If he was really out on a supply run with Michonne, the jacket would be gone. Aaron never came home. So where was he?

A gun fired inside of Rick's house. The Savior's people carrying guns all raised theirs in a protective stance. Rick took off for his house, knowing that Carl and Judith were inside. Every instinct made Daryl want to follow. He jerked and took a step, but one of the Saviors next to him slapped a forceful hand on his shoulder, squeezing his injury. "Where do you think you're going?" the man asked threatening him with narrowed eyes. Daryl didn't move after that, and tried to ignore the pain the man's grip was causing his shoulder.

"Daryl! Daryl!" someone was shouting in the distance. He started to look to see who it was, but the man next to him slapped the back of his head, making him look at the ground.

"Get out of here, kid," the man said. It was Caleb.

"You came for your stuff. You got most of what we have. Let him go," Caleb complained.

"Mind your own business or I'll shoot your ass," the man threatened. He took his gun out of his belt and held it at his side.

"Daryl belongs with us," Caleb demanded.

All Daryl could do was look at the ground. He wanted to punch his guard and go to Caleb. He wanted to tell Caleb to stop making a scene. These were dangerous people. They didn't care about age. They would kill a boy just as quickly as a man. If Caleb didn't stop this, he was going to find himself in serious trouble. He was still antagonizing the guard, and Daryl was about to risk his silence and tell the boy to stop and go home when Father Gabriel took Caleb by the arm and pulled him away.

"Let these men do what needs to be done, Caleb," Father Gabriel said calm and evenly.

"But we can't let them–" Caleb started, but he was cut off.

"We have no choice right now. Come on. Let them finish their business here." Father Gabriel pulled a reluctant Caleb away. Daryl glanced up through his long hair to watch. He was relieved that Father Gabriel was there to stop the boy, and Caleb was lucky that Negan went off with Rick to see about the gunshot.

It was killing Daryl to be this close to home and still be held prisoner. The rebel side of him wanted to get free and start killing each and every one of these motherfuckers until his own life was spent. He knew better than that. If he reacted, his punishment would be watching someone else that he cared for die, and that was a risk he couldn't take.

Someone whistled, and all of the Saviors waited for instructions. Negan was coming back to the gate, and he looked pissed. "Send the trucks up the streets. I want two groups, one with each truck to start loading anything sitting on the road. I want you and you to head up the groups, make sure nothing gets left behind," he said pointing to two of his lead guys. "The rest of you, I want eyes on everyone. Anyone steps out of line, shoot them. Rob, get your men and come with me. Bring Daryl with you. And where the fuck is Dwight? Isn't he supposed to be babysitting this piece of shit?"

"He's talking to that Latino chick," Rob said. "She knows where Daryl's bike is. He sent her and some other guy out to get it and bring it back."

Negan smiled and looked down at Daryl. "Is that right? I know he's been wanting to complete the set. He's already got the vest and the crossbow. Now, if they just find the missing gun, maybe I won't have to kill anyone, and we can leave on good terms." Negan turned back to his men. "Move it, people. Let's start loading those trucks. And don't forget, the really nice stuff goes in my truck."

There was a gun missing? Daryl thought about this. How could he know that? It dawned on him that Olivia kept a notebook that listed all of Alexandria's inventory and supplies, including a list of guns. He wondered how they found out about the book. It didn't matter much now. So one of the guns on the list was missing. It must not have been the one that just fired. Daryl still wondered what happened, but no one was telling him and no one was talking about it.

Rob pushed him in the back and forced him to start walking toward the pantry. When they got there, Negan was standing with Rick and Olivia. Daryl could only listen.

"So you have a list of all the important shit, a gun is missing from that list, and no one is questioning this?" Negan was saying. "What kind of fucked up system is that, Rick?"

"We have a couple people out scavenging. Maybe one of them took it," Rick said.

"What kind of a leader doesn't know where each and every weapon is? I thought you were smarter than that," Negan provoked Rick. "That's just as irresponsible as letting the fat woman be in charge of the food supply. Well, I'll tell you what, Rick. That gun better be here before we leave or," he paused and looked at Olivia, pointing his finger at her. "Or," he said and sliced his finger across his neck. "Now, I don't like to kill women, and I try not to do it, but Lucille, she doesn't give a fuck about gender. You still got my Lucille, Rick?"

Rick was holding the bat, letting it swing at his side. When they first arrived, Negan gave it to Rick, and made him carry it around with him all day. It was just another one of Negan's games to get in your head and screw with you.

"Treat her right," Negan reminded him. He waited for a reaction, but when Rick stayed stone faced Negan rolled his eyes. "Better get looking for that gun before time runs out."

Rick walked off and started talking to some of the people. Daryl could tell he was calling for a meeting, and he'd put everyone on search duty to find the missing gun so that Olivia wouldn't be executed. Rick, thought Daryl, was behaving so differently than usual. As a matter of fact, Daryl had never seen him like this. Since the first time he met the sheriff, he took a leadership role. Now, he was submissive, carrying that bloody bat around because Negan told him to. If it had been Daryl, he would have taken that bat to Negan's head by now. Everyone had been through so much. They were all broken, and under Negan's command, it looked like they had decided it was best to conform. What hope did Daryl have of ever coming home? No one was going to fight for him, and he couldn't do it on his own. He felt left behind, forgotten. Without Aaron here, there was no point in hoping he could ever get away from the Saviors. Hope was no longer on the table.

Rob, the man who took over watching Daryl while Dwight was busy with other things, forced Daryl into loading the trucks. Daryl kept his head down and did his duty. He could see some of the Alexandrians from his peripheral vision. They watched him perform his duties without opposition. They had seen Rick submit to Negan. Now they watched as Daryl obeyed orders like a dog on a leash. The disappointment in their eyes was painful. What could he do? Any one of them might be killed if he went against his captors. If only Aaron was here. Just to be able to look into his eyes. He would not look at Daryl like the others were doing. At least he hoped it hadn't come to that.

Hours passed by slow and torturous. Daryl's shoulder hurt. His back felt like it was breaking. His bare feet were raw from walking on the asphalt. The trucks were loaded and moving up toward the gate. Negan was still waiting for Rick to deliver the missing gun, and he was standing outside of Olivia's house, one of his men keeping a gun aimed at her. Rob was leading Daryl back with the rest of the Saviors, readying to leave, but he stopped when he saw Rick approaching with a black cloth bag, which he handed to Negan.

"I see you found it," Negan smiled. "Well done, Rick."

"And I have one that wasn't on the list," Rick handed him a rifle that Daryl knew belonged to Michonne. "As a sign of good faith," Rick added.

"I am very pleased. See there? It's not difficult to accomplish a working relationship between our communities. Keep up the good work." Negan leaned into Rick's ear. "A word of advice, though," he said loud enough for the people around them to hear. "You might want to rethink who you put in charge of the food rations." He puffed his cheeks as he nodded his head in gesture toward Olivia. She heard what he said, started to cry and ran into the house. Negan watched, shook his head and said, "Je-sus."

 _Bastard_ , Daryl thought.

"Since you were pleased with us," Rick said as Negan started to walk away, "I'd appreciate it if you let Daryl stay."

Negan stopped in his tracks and slowly turned on his heel. "Hmm, let me thing about th . . . No."

"But you said–"

"I know what I said, Rick, but I see great value in Daryl. I think he will make an exceptional addition to my crew … just as soon as he realizes it." Negan started to walk away again. Daryl saw what he was doing. He was antagonizing Rick, who still held onto the bat. He was daring Rick to take a swing at him. Daryl could see Rick's fist flexing, and his fingers tightening around the bat, as he thought the same thing. Luckily, Rick was smart enough to know he was being tested, and his hand relaxed.

Negan stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot. How senseless of me." He took the two steps back to Rick and retrieved Lucille. He brought the bat up to his face and looked at it as though he was staring into the eyes of a beautiful woman. "I'm sorry baby. I won't let that happen again." Then he laughed and smiled at his own distorted wit. "Move it out," he called to his people.

Daryl heard a familiar engine, his bike, and looked over his shoulder to find Dwight riding it up the street to join the convoy. He stopped next to Daryl and smiled arrogantly. "She's a fine piece of machinery. Feels good between my legs. Can't wait to open her up on the road." He waited for Daryl's reaction, but got none. "You know, Daryl, just say the words, and she's all yours again. Or should I say _he's_ all yours. Is it like that with your type?" Dwight said to rouse him, but Daryl remained silent. Dwight shrugged and revved the engine. "Your loss, my gain."

Rob pushed Daryl forward to make him start walking. "Go on. Back in the truck, asshole."

Rick stood by and watched the whole thing play out. Daryl saw him switch his balance from one foot to the other, wanting so badly to intervene. He followed them all the way to the gate, and stood just inside. Daryl hopped into the back of an open truck, sat down and looked back at Rick, pleading with his eyes for someone to come and help him get out of his situation. Rick was pacing, but there wasn't a damn thing he could do. The Saviors took everything except what little food they had. They even took all the mattresses from every house, another way to irritate Alexandria, make them submit, and push the fact that everything they had belonged to Negan. If it was left behind, it was only because Negan didn't need it right now, but there was always a chance that he would one day, and he'd know where to find it. Daryl realized that he was no more than a piece of furniture, taken from Alexandria to be used at the Sanctuary. The feeling of worthlessness began to settle into his mind. He'd already been used by Brady in a way that made Daryl think it was all he was good for. Brady abused his body, but Negan would abuse his mind if he gave in.

He had a lot to think about. He could make an accord and comply with Negan's rule, become one of his _top guys_ , as he like to say. Daryl could do this just long enough to find a way out. Dwight had done it, but he fucked up and went back. Daryl would never go back. He'd kill himself first. Where would he go? Could he go back to Alexandria and live with the guilt for getting Glenn killed? Would they want him there knowing that his actions had caused his death?

 _Worthless_ , said the voice within him.

Maybe it was too much of a risk to go home. Negan's people would come looking for him, and Alexandria would be the first place they'd go. This put all of them in trouble, and probably more than a few at the receiving end of Negan's bat. Daryl knew who his first target would be … Aaron. No, he could never put Aaron at risk like that. Daryl suddenly grasped the vivid reality. If he managed to escape the Saviors, he could never go back to Aaron. If he conformed to Negan, Aaron would be out of his life forever. There was no way to win this one.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44 Nothing For You Here**

Aaron was making his way back to Alexandria in a car that Paul gave him. He had just watched a group of Saviors invade Hilltop, accusing Gregory of working with the people who destroyed one of their outposts. When the Saviors left, Paul disappeared too. He promised Aaron that he would get Daryl back, but that Aaron needed to get to Alexandria before Negan showed and noticed him missing. It wouldn't have been a long journey by car, but his car broke down about five miles out. He could have gone back to Hilltop, but he knew it was more important to get to Alexandria. It would mean spending a night in the open, but he could be home by the next morning.

He was careful as he traveled, watching for straggler Saviors that might have been patrolling the area. He didn't see anyone. Cutting through a section of forest, he knew he could shave off some time from his travels. Aaron went as far as he could go before exhaustion took over, found a halfway decent place to make camp, rested until first light, and headed out again. He had been lucky, as far as walkers were concerned. There didn't seem to be many around this place.

Soon, he started to recognize the terrain. He was close to home. The final stretch of road was beneath his feet. He stopped when he saw smoke rising into the air, and ran in that direction. At first, he thought it might be the town on fire, but it was in the wrong area. When he got there, he found a huge pile of mattresses still smoldering. They had been lit on fire. Aaron looked around the area and didn't see any bodies, thank goodness. Seeing this, he hurried and ran the rest of the way home. He stopped at one of the abandoned houses and assessed the outside of Alexandria's border. He didn't see any Saviors. It looked to be a quiet morning. He could see Father Gabriel at the top of the wall. Aaron came out and made his way to the gate. Father Gabriel shaded his eyes and watched until Aaron got close enough to be recognized. He smiled wide and called down for the gate to be opened. Aaron was never so glad to be home, but a part of him was still out there, wondering where Daryl was, and hoping Paul would bring him back soon.

The gate slid open, and Caleb flew out toward Aaron. He wrapped his arms around Aaron, briefly, and then released him to give a hurried explanation of the events that happened just the day before. His sentences ran one into the other.

"The Saviors were here. They came early. Rick told them that, but they didn't care, and they took a bunch of our stuff, and no one has a bed anymore because they took all the mattresses, and Michonne said she found them burning. They took all the guns and a bunch of other things from all the houses and–"

"Woah, woah," Aaron stopped him. "I know about the mattresses. I saw then on my way home. Those were ours?"

"Yeah. I think they did it just to spite us," Caleb continued. "I mean, they were taking everything, going through every house, loading vans and . . ." Caleb stopped, the excitement too much that he seemed to lose his train of thought. "Oh shit. Oh shit, I should have told you this first."

"What," Aaron said worriedly, his stomach clenching.

"Daryl was here. They brought Daryl with them. I tried to talk to him, but they wouldn't let me."

Aaron placed his hands on each of Caleb's shoulders to anchor him so he could make the boy focus. "Daryl was here? Is he still here?"

Caleb shook his head. "They made him go with them when they left."

"How did he look? Did he look okay?" Aaron said urgently.

"He looked kind of rough, man. Looked like someone beat the shit out of him. His eyes were blackened, lip split. They made him look at the ground most of the time, and wouldn't let anyone communicate with him. He was shaking like he just wasn't himself." Caleb slowed down as he told Aaron about Daryl. "I'm sorry. Rick tried to get Negan to let Daryl stay, but he said he had better use for him with the Saviors."

"Did anyone say anything about Hilltop?" Aaron asked.

"Not that I know of."

"Where's Rick?" Aaron needed to talk to him.

"He's out on a run. Said he'd be back soon."

"By himself?" Aaron asked.

"He wouldn't take anyone with him, and you weren't here. He's been gone a couple days."

"Christ," Aaron said loud. "And no one's gone out to look for him?"

"He told us not to leave, except . . ." Caleb cut his words off when he realized he's said too much.

"Don't hold out on me, Caleb. What's going on?"

"You have to swear not to tell anyone this."

"Shit, what is it?" Aaron said, already regretting it.

"When Rick left, so did Carl."

"What? Where the hell did Carl go?" He was only gone for a week and already things were falling apart.

Caleb didn't speak at first. When Aaron crossed his arms and stared at him, he knew he had no other choice. "Rick and Carl had an argument. Carl thinks we need to go after the Saviors. Rick thinks we need to do as we're told so that we have supplies when Negan comes back. No one knows for sure when that will be."

"Oh for God's sake. Carl went after Negan?" Aaron asked.

"No. He's not stupid. He knows he can't do it alone. He went to Hilltop … with … with Enid."

"Enid's gone too?" The news was just getting worse with every answer to every question.

"Enid was skipping out to go to Hilltop to see Maggie. Carl caught her leaving and followed her. He said when he gets there, he's going to try to talk to Jesus and Maggie and see if he can get them to agree that they should find out where the Saviors live."

A couple days ago, Aaron thought. That was about the time he left, but he didn't see Carl or Enid. Maybe they just missed each other. If Carl was looking for Paul, he wasn't going to find him. Paul was already gone to follow the Saviors. All he could hope for was that Maggie and Sasha took Carl and Enid in to keep them safe.

"With all this mess, at least you're still here, and you better stay here too," Aaron scolded.

"I'm not going anywhere," Caleb promised. "So, how is Maggie? Is she still . . ."

"Yes, she's still pregnant. She has to take it easy, though. Their doctor wants her to stay until she delivers the baby. Sasha is staying with her."

"Rick told everyone what happened. People are upset about Glenn and Abraham. Some are angry, some are scared. A few people are upset with Rick for giving in to Negan. They want to fight, but Rick said we're outnumbered," Caleb said.

"We are," Aaron admitted. "We can't fight them, not with our numbers. We need more people. I've been talking to Paul … uh … Jesus, and he agrees, but it's not easy convincing Hilltop's leader to make a move."

"You know, Rick and Michonne aren't seeing eye to eye either. She wants to fight too. Rick's scared though. He's worried about more people dying, so he said we need to try and make this new situation work with Negan."

"For now, I think that's the best idea. They still have Daryl as leverage. Until we get him back . . ." Aaron's words trailed off. It was difficult to talk about it. "I wish I had been here."

"I could tell he was looking for you. He was searching the crowd for you. I wish I could have talked to him and told him where you were, but I couldn't get close enough to him, and he had a guard the whole time. I knew better than to mention Hilltop while the Saviors were here."

"That's good, Caleb. That's very good. You're a smart kid. You know what to do," Aaron praised him.

"If it's okay," Caleb asked. "Could I crash at your place for now? With Rick and Carl gone, I didn't want to stay there alone, so I was staying with Olivia, but she's kind of freaked out right now. It makes me nervous to be around her. Negan was an asshole to her, insulted her, threatened her. I'll tell you about what went down when we get to your place later. I mean, if it's alright with you."

Aaron smiled at the boy and pulled him in for a hug. "Of course it's okay, but I guess you'll have to sleep on the floor."

"You will too," Caleb returned. "Everyone is."

Aaron shook his head and mumbled, "Bastards."

That night, Aaron made Caleb a bed with the comforter from the bed he no longer had. There were extra sheets and blankets in one of the closets that the Saviors didn't take. Aaron made his own bed next to Caleb. They talked for a while, and Caleb told him what happened, how they found the guns, and how they almost killed Olivia because one was missing. Aaron asked Caleb to tell him about Daryl, how he looked and acted. Aaron was so worried for him. He couldn't imagine what they'd done to him, and he didn't know why Negan was keeping him. Mind games, Aaron told himself. That was how Negan dealt with people. He got in their heads. How had he gotten into Daryl's head, he wondered? Before drifting off to a light sleep, Aaron said a silent prayer for Daryl's safe return.

* * *

Morning came in through the windows, bright and invading. Aaron woke up, but he hadn't slept much. His worry for Daryl was taking over. Ever since that night in the woods, Aaron had hardly slept. He feared what dreams would bring.

He looked over at Caleb's makeshift bed and found it empty. It seemed that Aaron wasn't the only one not sleeping much these days. He got up and threw on his pants. There was nothing in the house to eat, and he was starving, so he decided to go down to the pantry. As soon as he got there he saw Rick, who had just come back. Rick seemed relieved to see Aaron. He was even more relieved to hear about Maggie and Sasha. Both men filled each other in on the things that happened over the past week. Aaron kept waiting for Rick to ask about Carl, but he had something important to discuss first.

"I found something. It's pretty far out there, but I think it's loaded with supplies," Rick explained. "There's this place with warning signs posted every once in a while to detour people. It doesn't look like anyone has attempted to go too far onto his property. I kept going until I came to a lake … and there's a houseboat on the other side. Problem is, I can't do this alone. Whoever's stuff is on that boat, they took measures to make sure no one could simply run off with their stash. It's like a puzzle. It's going to take two people to pull this off. I need your help, Aaron."

"You've got it, Rick." Aaron clapped a hand on Rick's shoulder. "When do you want to go?"

"Let's go now," Rick said.

"But you just got here. Don't you want to rest or–"

"We need these supplies now. I can't count on the Saviors coming back when they say they will. I was unprepared before because they came early. We have to maintain a good relationship with them," Rick said, but there was fear in his voice. Aaron had never seen him behave this way before. Rick had always fought back, but now he was letting someone else take the lead. Aaron understood why. He'd been there that night, watched his friends die, watched Daryl get hauled away. Any more risks could result in more deaths, and that was something Rick obviously didn't want on his conscience.

"I'm with you," Aaron told him. "I'm with you all the way."

"Thanks. That's good to know," Rick said sincerely. "I just need to check in with Carl first, and then we can–" He paused because Aaron wasn't good at keeping secrets. It showed on his face. "What is it?"

"I don't know everything because I just got here yesterday, but I talked to Caleb, and he said that Carl and Enid left for Hilltop."

Rick's hand went into his hair, and he began pacing, his worn boot clicking on the asphalt. "Hilltop?"

"Yeah. Apparently, he's concerned about everything just as much as you, but he's got different ideas about how to deal with our new business partners," Aaron put it as easily as possible.

Rick hung his head and slowly moved it from side to side. "That boy's got his mom's stubbornness," he murmured. He looked up at Aaron, putting his hand behind his neck. "Dammit. That's why he wouldn't go with me. He knew he was leaving."

"He's a good kid, Rick. He went with Enid because he didn't want her to go alone. And Enid went because she's worried about Maggie. You know how they've bonded lately." Aaron was trying to stay neutral and support both sides of the Grime's men. "Maggie and Sasha will look after them. The roads to Hilltop are fairly clear, and I didn't see any Saviors along the way. Carl knows what to do. He's learned from the best. And you know, with the focus on Alexandria right now, maybe it's better that they went to Hilltop."

Rick cocked his head and watched Aaron with a skeptical eye. "I know you're telling me this to make me feel better. Well, I don't, but you're a good talker. You always were."

"Thanks, I guess," Aaron said.

* * *

It took a couple hours to reach the place Rick spoke of. They had taken a box van, anticipating their haul. If it was a bust, they'd be out of luck, and agreed to keep searching other places for supplies. Rick felt confident they would find supplies on the houseboat. Aaron remained skeptical.

Rick stopped the van in front of a rusty metal gate with a hand painted sign attached to it that read, 'Keep Going. Only thing here 4 you is trouble.' They had seen other signs along the way. Aaron thought it was odd to leave warning signs around that actually led the way to the very place someone was trying to protect.

"We'll leave the truck here until we know for sure whether we need it or not. I don't want to take it, in case there's booby traps or something. The road is littered with potholes too," Rick explained. They left the van at the gate and walked the rest of the way, fighting off mosquitos and wasps, and the occasional snake that slithered out from under their feet. None of this bothered Rick. He was a man on a mission, and Aaron had no choice but to follow him. No matter what had happened or how things were changing, Aaron would always consider Rick his leader. At one point, he told Rick this. It was important that he knew.

They reached the lake, which was more the size of a large pond. It was surrounded by trees and underbrush. Aaron saw the houseboat across the water. It looked like it had been there for a very long time, but it was still floating. The challenge was getting to the houseboat. The first thing Aaron noticed was the walkers floating across every part of the lake, staggered around as though they were anchored in their places. Most of them were animated, and the sight of Rick and Aaron excited them. Swimming across the snake infested water was not an option. At their feet, resting on the shore, there was a rowboat, but it was riddled with bullet holes. In the center of the lake was another small boat with life vests inside. It was obvious what they had to do to reach the houseboat.

Aaron shaded his eyes from the sun and weighed their options. "What kind of Indiana Jones shit is this?" he said.

"This is going to fill with water, but if we row fast enough, I think we can make it to the halfway point before it completely sinks. Then we take the second boat to the houseboat, provided that there aren't any more tests we must pass," Rick said.

Aaron scratched his head and looked around for another way. There wasn't one. This was it.

"You don't have to do this," Rick said when he saw Aaron's hesitation.

"I didn't come all this way to stand by and watch you," Aaron answered, his ire evident. "I've stood by long enough. I've let others dictate what I should and shouldn't do, and I've regretted some of my decisions to do so. I'm here for one reason, and one reason only … because this is what Daryl would do. This is what he would want me to do. I fight for him, for his safe return, because I need him back, and if risking my life to cross this lake gets me one step closer to him, then that's what I have to do." Aaron looked behind him to another sign someone erected. It was constructed of wooden boards, just the right size to use as oars. He marched off and kicked the bottom panels from the uprights, and brought back two split boards, giving one to Rick. "Now, let's get this shit done."

They dragged the first boat into the water and hopped in. The wood boards worked well to help row to the center of the lake. Walkers clawed at the boat, and the men used the splintered end of the boards to stab them in their heads. Soon, the walkers were surrounding them, rocking the small hole-filled boat. They were becoming overwhelmed and the boat was filling quickly with water. Rick managed to get into the second boat while Aaron waited for his turn. Suddenly, Aaron felt skeletal hands grab his jacket, and he couldn't get loose. He tried to jerk away but the boat was becoming unstable. It was just about to sink.

Aaron was dragged into the water as the boat went under. He splashed and tried to swim backwards to get away from the threat, but there were more behind him. He looked at Rick one last time. "Get to the house boat, now!" he yelled before he went under the water. Aaron could hear Rick screaming for him, desperately shouting his name. He could feel the dead hands holding onto him, and anticipated the feel of teeth at any moment. The water was murky, and he couldn't see a thing. He kicked at the hands on his legs and yanked his arms out of the dead's grip, as he dove deeper under the water. God only knew what was down this far. It was possible there were more walkers on the bottom. He could very well be swimming towards a watery herd.

" _I'll fight for you until the last breath leaves my lungs,"_ he remembered Daryl telling him once. Aaron held _his_ last breath in his burning lungs, and to take it would mean to drown. If that's what he needed to do, he would do it with Daryl being the last thought in his mind. Suddenly he felt himself freed for only a moment, and took advantage of the lapse. He kicked and struggled upwards until he finally broke the surface, sucking in a huge breath of much needed oxygen.

"Aaron," Rick was calling out to him.

Aaron saw that Rick was in the second boat. He'd made it, thank God. "I'm okay. I'm okay," he repeated to assure not only Rick, but himself also. Aaron had made it closer to the houseboat while struggling underwater. He used the last of his energy to get to the deck of the boat, climbed the ladder and collapsed on his back, desperately trying to regain his breath. Rick rowed over and both men were finally on the houseboat. After a brief rest, they got up and started searching the boat.

There was an assortment of items, most of it boxed up already. Someone had been collecting for a while it seemed. There was some food, but not a lot. There were some guns too, but no ammo. Most of it was junkyard finds. At this point, they didn't care. As long as they had something to give Negan when he returned, and keep Alexandria safe, that's all that mattered.

Aaron was looking through some of the boxes of goods, and found a piece of paper with a drawing of a hand giving the middle finger. He showed it to Rick. "Congrats for winning, but you still lose," Aaron read from the hand drawn note. "What do you think? Same guy who made all those signs that led us here?"

"Yeah … well … his loss is our gain, so who's the loser?" Rick said as he rummaged through another box.

Aaron put the note back in the box where he found it and closed the lid. He walked out onto the deck and gazed across the lake where they came from. "The wind has picked up a bit. I think if we undo the moorings, we can just drift back to the other side."

"Good. In the meantime, let's get all of the loose stuff boxed," Rick said. As they worked, Rick spoke to Aaron about their conversation before crossing the water. "I'm sorry if I insulted you earlier. I didn't mean to say you couldn't help me. I just don't want to put anyone in harm's way. I don't want to lose any more people. I've lost enough."

"You didn't do anything to cause that," Aaron said, as he stopped what he was doing. "Glenn, Abraham … all of us were there that night because we believe in what we have in Alexandria and we believe in each other. We do things together or not at all. That's how you've always done it, Rick, and that's how we continue to do it. That's why we still follow you even now with the new law and trade agreement. Everyone knows you want what best for the community."

"Michonne doesn't feel that way," Rick admitted. It was the first time Rick had ever opened up with something personal to Aaron, and he listened intently. "She says what we're doing, what we've agreed to, it isn't living." Rick picked up a box and moved it near the deck before he continued. "I asked her to come with me the first time I went out. I asked Carl too, but neither one would go. They don't have to say anything for me to know how they feel. They don't agree with my decision to scavenge for Negan. They want to draw up a plan and fight. I just want to keep the peace. What happened that night, I can't go through that again. I can't watch any more people die. So if it means we have to work a little bit harder, then that's what we have to do to stay alive."

"What happens if we find more people who want to fight? Do we tell them no?" Aaron asked. He thought of the conversation with Paul, about joining forces with Hilltop.

"It's not going to be enough. You saw Negan's men. There's more than we thought, and who knows how many more they have at their camp." Rick stopped and rested his hands on one of the boxes, leaning on it. "This is our best shot at survival. Negan's right, it's not much, just some extra supplies on top of what we usually gather, and we keep the peace," Rick said again.

"As long as our hearts are still beating, right?" Aaron said to agree with him.

"Exactly."

"We're with you," Aaron said. "It might take some of us longer to adjust to the new rules than others, but I'm sure everyone will come around. It's difficult, after having been a free community, to have to bend to someone else's rules. I don't like it either, but the reason I'm going along with it now is for Daryl. It might be the only thing that will get him home." As he said this, he thought about Paul's promise. What would happen if he couldn't get Daryl free? Bowing to Negan and the trade agreement might be all that was left to get him home.

The boat eventually drifted across the lake. Rick and Aaron ran back for the van and managed to drive it through the weeds and potholes. They transferred the boxes from the boat to the van, working tirelessly until they had it loaded. It was time to get back home and get things ready for Negan's next visit.

* * *

 **A few days earlier . . .**

Daryl was back at the Sanctuary, and he was put to work doing all the shitty stuff that no one else wanted to do. He had to help chain up walkers to the perimeter fence, and watched as the guy he was working with almost got bit. Daryl pulled the man away just in time, and they finished what they were doing. Daryl glanced up at Dwight, who was watching them work. He was supposed to help guard the workers from attacks, but it seemed like he was hoping something went wrong, especially with Daryl.

It upset him to see Dwight with his crossbow. That had been his weapon since the beginning of everything. He used to hunt with his brother using that bow. It had sentimental value, and to see Dwight with it got under his skin. Daryl would just think about the day he got his weapon back and used it to kill Dwight.

The only good thing about working was being allowed to leave his cell. The work he was given kept him busy all day, and when he was put in the cell at the end of the day, he knew he would sleep. The music went away, but not the dogfood sandwiches. He scraped off the nasty part and just ate the bread. It was enough to keep him alive, but he felt his body craving protein. He was also given shoes, a pair of sneakers that were too small. By the end of his shift, his feet were always sore.

Daryl and his work partner were bringing out another walker, and chaining him to one of the concrete barricades when a line of vehicles pulled in. They came into the yard, and workers ran out to unload the trucks. Dwight called Daryl and his partner to him.

"I want you to stay here on the platform while I go check in. Don't move from this spot," Dwight demanded. He looked each man in the eye in warning before going off to meet the trucks.

Daryl stood at the metal railing and watched what was going on. The men in the trucks got out and started ordering workers to unload the trucks, telling them what items went where. One truck they referred to as the Negan truck, and those things were to go straight to their leader's rooms. Daryl watched the organization of the event, the way everyone moved like they had done this a thousand times before. Probably because they had, he thought.

Negan appeared, excited to see what his men brought him. Dwight was moving toward him, and was about to go around to the back when suddenly gunfire rang out. Daryl crouched down where he stood, not that he was protected in any way behind the open railing. It was more instinct than anything else. Some of the men started yelling, one man fell to the ground and didn't move again. Chaos ensued as everyone tried to comprehend what was happening. Negan's men surrounded him to protect him, but Negan didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled and ordered his men to stand down. He was talking to the shooter, who finally came out of the truck. Daryl's heart sunk when he saw that the shooter was Carl. What the hell? How the hell? The questions piled up in his mind.

Carl still had the gun aimed at Negan. Words were exchanged, but Daryl couldn't hear them from where he stood. Carl shot the gun again, and a second man fell. That's when Dwight tackled the boy to the ground. Negan told Dwight to back off now that the gun was out of Carl's hands. Daryl wanted to run down there and make sure no harm came to Carl, but he couldn't leave the area he was in. Instead, he hopped from one foot to the other like a caged animal ready to strike. What would Negan do to him? This was a serious breach, and it didn't help that it was Rick's son. After a few tense moments, Negan pointed towards Daryl. Carl turned to see where he was pointing and saw him. His jaw dropped when he saw Daryl, as though he hadn't expected to see him. Negan made some kind of threat that if Carl didn't accept his hospitality, he would cut off Daryl's arm. Then, Carl walked off with Negan, heading towards the main doors that led into the compound. Daryl stood helpless and watched them disappear.

The worker that was next to Daryl was about to run away, seeing an unguarded opportunity, but a Savior guard came out of the door where they stood. He must have heard the gunshots and came out to see what was going on. He saw Daryl and the other man, and took over.

"You two get inside now!" the man yelled.

Both men followed directions and entered through the door. There was another guard in the hallway. The first guard ordered him to take the prisoners back to their cells until they knew what was happening. Daryl's cell was closest, and he was taken there, pushed inside and the door locked. He paced the dark room, wondering what was going on. He couldn't deny the brief flicker of hope that it was more than Carl who had come. Maybe Aaron was here too. He wanted that more than anything, but at a second thought, he hoped Aaron was still in Alexandria.

It wasn't like any of Daryl's people to open fire like that. And they definitely wouldn't send Carl in while the rest of them hid outside looking for another way in. If they were all here to attack the Sanctuary, they would have come in unseen, like they had done in the past, and Daryl remembered the siege upon the town of Woodbury and the Governor. Needless to say, Rick would never allow Carl to be the bait in one of their schemes. So if no one else was here, how did Carl get here, and why was he alone? If only he could get some kind of word to Carl, but that seemed to be an impossible feat.

A little while later, Dwight came for Daryl, took him out of the cell, and led him from the hallway to a set of stairs. Daryl had never been anywhere but this floor, the basement he called it.

"Where we going?" he asked Dwight.

"Your next assignment," Dwight said tersely.

They ascended a stairwell until they were at the next floor. The door had a sign that read, 1st Floor, written in red letters. The door opened and a woman came out. She looked shocked to see Dwight and Daryl. It was Sherry, Dwight's wife, or ex-wife now.

"What is he doing here?" she asked.

"Negan's got a job for him," Dwight said.

"Does he know about–" she started to say, but was stopped.

"Mind your own business," Dwight cut her off. She looked like she was about to say something else, but Dwight glared at her and shook his head. "I'm sure you got somewhere to be," he hinted.

She looked at Daryl once more, her eyes sad and pleading to speak. She wouldn't dare. Instead, she turned her eyes to the ground and passed by the men, heading up the next set of stairs to another floor higher than the one they were on. Daryl watched her leave, but Dwight opened the door and shoved him inside.

They were standing in a kitchen stocked with industrial appliances. Had this been here before the apocalypse or was this taken from other communities? Daryl wondered.

"There," Dwight said, gesturing to a silver tray sitting on one of the prep tables. It held an assortment of cheese cubes, grapes, olives and crackers.

Daryl looked at it and then to Dwight. Dwight pointed with the crossbow. "Pick it up and let's go," he said impatiently.

It was more punishment, Daryl thought. He'd been given nothing but stale bread and dogfood, and now he was being forced to deliver real food, the scent of it making his mouth water. It was like holding a steak in front of a starving lion and telling it not to eat it. It would almost be worth the beating he would receive for shoving a handful of the food into his mouth. He couldn't afford another ass kicking. The last one almost did him in.

They left the kitchen and entered the stairwell again. Dwight directed him up two more flights, stopping at the third floor, the door clearly marked. Dwight opened the door and Daryl stepped through. This floor was made into living quarters with many rooms lining the hall. It looked as if it had previously been offices when the factory had been a real thing. The doors were made of wood, not like the metal doors of the cells. The hall had carpeting, and there were places where a receptionist might have had her desk for visitors to check in. Through a set of double doors, there was a richly decorated room with an eclectic collection of items that looked like they should be in a museum. Bookshelves lined one wall, and an expensive looking black leather sofa and loveseat sat in front of it. On a table sat a crystal decanter half filled with an amber liquid, probably scotch or whiskey. Matching glasses were meticulously arranged around the decanter. The floor was covered with afghan rugs, inviting to any visitor.

Daryl wondered what they were doing here. He still held the tray of food. Dwight pointed to another set of decorative doors. "Through there," he said, and Daryl pushed one of the doors open. There were voices inside the next room, one of them was Negan, who was standing very close to Sherry, whispering in her ear. He saw Dwight enter the room behind Daryl, and proceeded to kiss Sherry seductively. Sherry's back was turned to them, and she didn't see Dwight come inside the room. More Negan games, Daryl thought as he eyes swept the room. There were other women in here, dressed in tight dresses, some in negligees. They were all very pretty and young. Negan's harem, Daryl thought. Sick bastard collected wives like he collected everything else, in abundance. He noticed that one girl was visibly upset. There was some kind of trouble, but he didn't know what it was. Sherry seemed to be the mediator, and she was defending the crying girl.

As Daryl watched this scene unfold, he had to keep his calm at the same time because Carl was standing with Negan, obviously ordered to watch him deal with his women, as though he was teaching the boy how things worked at the Sanctuary.

It didn't go unnoticed, either, the way Dwight was flexing his fist and chewing on his bottom lip as he watched Negan kissing his ex-wife. Dwight made a sound as though to clear his throat. Sherry pulled back and glanced over her shoulder. She looked embarrassed. Negan smiled as usual. Carl finally turned around to see who was there, and saw Daryl.

"Daryl!" Carl called. He was about to go to him.

"Carl, no," Daryl ordered, and Carl stopped.

Negan stepped in front of the boy, and glared at Daryl. "You weren't given permission to speak. Do it again, and I'll take out the boy's other eye." He walked up to Daryl and stared with narrowed eyes. Daryl looked down and away, afraid to stare back. It was one thing to challenge the madman, but he wouldn't do it with Carl there. He wouldn't put him in harm's way.

All he could wonder was why Carl was here, and where was everyone else. He got his answer as Negan spoke. "Seems as though we got ourselves a stowaway, hiding in the back of my truck. Not only that, but he shot and killed two of my men. That kind of shit can't go unpunished."

Daryl tried to lunge at Negan, afraid that he would kill Carl right in front of him, but Dwight grabbed his arms and held him steady.

Negan smiled and waved his bat around. "Are you volunteering?" Negan asked. He approached Daryl again, only this time, he plucked a piece of cheese from the tray and savored it slowly before Daryl. "As I was saying, there will be a price to pay for the death of my men. What will it be, you wonder? I haven't made up my mind yet, but I know one thing for sure. This little pecker has more balls than some of my top guys. I don't know, Daryl, maybe he's more easily persuaded than you when it comes to joining my little club."

Daryl tensed, ready to drop the tray and take another swing at Negan. He quickly reminded himself how poorly that turned out the first time. He couldn't be responsible for any harm to Carl. In his position, there wasn't much he could do to protect him except to be unresponsive, and to not engage in Negan's contest.

Negan smiled, knowing how he was affecting Daryl with Rick's son in the same room. He turned back to Carl and said, "You're not allowed to speak to him … at all." He went on to explain why he did what he did in the woods, apologizing for killing Carl's friends. It was all bullshit to get under everyone's skin. Amazingly, Carl stood his own with Negan. The boy had come a long way from the little kid he was when Daryl met him. He was a man, a young man, but a man no less, and Rick's son, which made him tougher than the average teen.

After a while, Negan seemed to get bored with the situation. He told Dwight to put Daryl back to work in the yard, but to leave the food. He said he had business to discuss with Carl, wanted to give him a tour of the Sanctuary, and be a gracious host to his newest member of his trading community.

Dwight pulled Daryl by the back of his collar and practically dragged him from the room. Daryl didn't want to leave Carl behind. He wished he could ask him all the questions that rambled through his head, mainly, where everyone else was. Could it be that Carl came alone? Once they were out of the room and in the stairwell, Daryl pleaded with Dwight.

"You gotta get Carl away from here," Daryl said.

"I ain't gotta do nothing," Dwight retaliated. "Besides, he's taken up with the kid. Negan ain't stupid. He knows how powerful Rick is. He knows what will happen if he hurts the boy in any such way. He's got Rick where he wants him, and he doesn't want to mess that up. Carl will be fine, as long as he doesn't try anything stupider than what he's already attempted." Dwight was too trusting, too comfortable in his relationship with Negan. Daryl could see this. It would be his downfall one day.

Daryl was taken back to the yard to finish what he'd started before the trucks arrived. The man he was working with earlier wasn't there, but a different man was. He had on the same dingy sweat suit, but his red letter was an F. Both men were sent into the yard to wrangle another walker, its head covered with a bucket for added protection against bites. The fence seemed to be filling up fast. Who were all these people, Daryl wondered, and why were they here and not inside living their lives? Why were so many people allowing Negan to get away with this lifestyle? He was only one man, besides a handful of cronies. If the people of the Sanctuary would rise up against Negan, they could overpower him. They had the numbers, but they were scared. It was a terrifying but awesome power Negan held over everyone.

"All right, that's it for now," Dwight called to the men when they were finished with the walker. "Negan's called everyone inside for a meeting, and that includes you too." Daryl and the other man joined Dwight, who led them inside the factory to a very large room. It was filled with many of the residents, who were all standing around wondering why they were called upon.

Negan appeared on an elevated deck with Carl by his side. Every person knelt on one knee and bowed their heads when they saw Negan. The place got very quiet. Daryl watched, so amazed that he didn't bow. Dwight pushed him down quickly before Negan's eyes turned in their direction.

"We've scored a huge load today. It's a good day here in the Sanctuary. So good that everyone will get fresh vegetables at dinner, regardless of how many points you have," Negan announced. The crowd cheered. "That's the good news," Negan continued and everyone quieted again. Daryl noticed how the faces fell. There was more to come.

A man was led out onto the factory floor to a chair that sat in the center of the area. He was tied to the chair, arms behind his back. Negan explained what was happening, how this man named Mark broke the rules. "I can't say it enough. The rules are there for a reason. It is important that they are followed. However, and it never ceases to amaze me, sometimes the rules are ignored. Once that happens, punishment must be dealt."

Dwight approached the furnace, and brought out an iron. It wasn't like the modern ones made of plastic. This was a cast iron, old fashioned iron, the kind used before electricity. It was glowing red on the bottom surface. Negan slipped his hand into a welder's glove and took the iron from Dwight. He walked up to Mark, finished enforcing the reason the rules must be followed at all times, and then proceeded to press the glowing iron to the side of Mark's face. The man screamed in agony, a horrible sound that Daryl wouldn't soon forget. While the iron was still pressed to Mark's face, he passed out and slumped limp in the chair. Negan pulled the iron away, skin melted to it, a gruesome sight. When he was done, he looked around him, saw Daryl and pointed at a puddle of urine on the floor at Mark's feet. He narrowed his eyes at Daryl.

"Clean that up," he commanded, making sure Carl heard his tone, and watched Daryl submit. This was horrible, Daryl thought. Carl shouldn't have to see him like this, but he was doing it to keep the kid safe.

Dwight shoved a mop into Daryl's hands, and shoved him towards the puddle. Daryl started mopping, but he did it reluctantly. Negan, he noticed let Carl watch a few moments before he pulled him away. The crowd broke up and went back to whatever they had been doing previously. Mark was released, and two men carried his limp body from the room.

When he was done mopping, he looked at Dwight for directions, but the man was in a daydream. It had disturbed him to watch Mark's face get branded. Now Daryl knew what Dwight had gone through. "That happened to you … when you came back?" Daryl asked.

Dwight stared at the furnace, still burning bright with fire. "Yep," he answered. That was all. He didn't say anything else after that.

* * *

Negan and Carl had been gone for a while. Dwight took Daryl back outside to move around a couple of walkers. There wasn't any reason except to keep Daryl busy, and make it look as though Dwight was working. This time, Daryl knew what to do, and it didn't take him long to perform his duties. Dwight still seemed distracted. Daryl thought it was the scene he came upon, when he walked in and found Negan kissing Sherry. Why the hell did he come back? Daryl wondered. He had escaped this place, had all of Daryl's shit, had his wife, though they lost her sister. All they had to do was leave and keep going. That's what Daryl would have done. The Saviors were a large group, but they only reigned a certain area. Dwight could have gone far away where they wouldn't come across any Saviors. Instead, he got scared and chose to go back, which resulted in losing his wife and half his face. This was no life. This wasn't living. It was hardly surviving. No, it was blackmail, trickery. It was submission and false security. Negan could make you think you were his lead guy, and turn around and have you chaining walkers to a fence, all in a matter of a day. Dwight was stupid to come back, Daryl thought.

He had just finished with the walkers, and was making his way back inside the compound's fence when the trucks that brought the last load roared to life and lined up, ready to head out the gates. The lead truck, a white box van, stopped at the gate, and Negan, who was inside, exchanged words with Dwight.

"We're taking a little ride," Negan said. "Watch the fort while I'm gone."

Daryl could see Carl sitting in the van between the driver and Negan. Carl looked out and saw Daryl. Poor kid looked scared. He couldn't blame him, not after all he'd seen Negan do.

"Thought it might be a good idea to stretch our legs," Negan said.

Daryl took a few steps forward, but as he did, he saw movement at the top edge of the truck. He casually looked up, careful not to draw attention, and caught a glimpse of Jesus looking down at him. "What the hell?" he mumbled softly to himself. He couldn't allow himself any kind of reaction. Not sure whether or not Jesus knew Carl was in the truck, he thought he should give some kind of signal. Daryl glared at Negan and called out. "You'd better not hurt Carl," Daryl demanded.

"Hurt him? Wouldn't dream of it, unless he gave me a good enough reason." Negan's eyes turned hard, and fell upon Daryl. "Hey Dwight. Put him back in his cell. I don't think I like the tone he took with me, and I definitely don't like the way he's looking at me. Leave him there until I get back."

"Yes, Negan" Dwight agreed.

While Negan was talking to his driver, Daryl glanced at the top of the truck again. Jesus was gone, or at least he wasn't visible to him anymore. Then Dwight came up to him, grabbed him roughly by the arm and told him to move it. He glanced up at the top of the truck one more time. Nothing. Hopefully Jesus heard Daryl mention Carl. Maybe he would hitch a ride back to Alexandria, and keep an eye out for Carl, just in case. Jesus was good with stealth, and he remembered when he'd first met him. He and Rick had come across him during a supply run. Jesus tricked them and stole their truck of supplies. They caught up to him, tied him up at the edge of the road, and the little bitch somehow managed to get away. Not only that, but he snuck up onto the roof of the van, just like he was now. Daryl could almost take back all the bad thoughts he had about Jesus … almost. He still didn't like the guy, but he trusted him. That's why he said Carl's name out loud. If anyone would help Carl, he knew Jesus would.

Back in his cell, Daryl sat alone in the dark, worrying about Carl. The boy had killed two of Negan's men, and Daryl knew enough about Negan to know there would be some kind of retaliation. He didn't punish Carl. The boy was clearly uninjured. Daryl thought he might have to take the punishment, and Negan would make Carl watch, but that didn't happen either. Now, Negan was taking Carl home. There would be a lot of people to choose from. Who would absorb the hurt for Carl's bravery? He felt the horripilation on his skin as tiny bumps appeared on his arms, and the hair stood on his neck.

"Aaron," he whispered. That would mean punishment toward Daryl and guilt for Carl's involvement. "Please, God, don't let Aaron be there," He prayed over and over again.

He sat in the corner, rocking himself, trying not to think about Negan and what he was going to do in Alexandria. It had been unnaturally quiet in the hallway. With Negan gone, people seemed to breathe a little easier. After a while, he saw a shadow moving under the door. Daryl thought someone was walking by his cell, but the person stopped. The feet shuffled back and forth a couple times, and then something came in from under the door, a piece of paper. The door unlocked and the feet scurried off quickly. Daryl waited and stared at the paper. Finally, he picked it up and unfolded it. It was a note that said, 'Go Now'. Beneath the writing, taped to the paper was a key and a matchstick. Someone was helping him escape.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45 Matchsticks**

"You sure you're okay?" Rick asked Aaron. They were in the van driving back to Alexandria. Aaron had almost drowned trying to get away from a lake of floating walkers. It had been a close call, and he kept checking himself every time he felt an itch or a scratch, fearing that he'd find a bite mark. Rick must have noticed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Aaron answered.

"I know you're worried about Daryl. And I know it must look pretty shitty that we haven't tried to find him yet. But I want you to know that we haven't forgotten about him," Rick said to soothe Aaron's worry.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me." Aaron looked out of his window, watching the world go by.

"He's lucky to have you," Rick admitted after a stretch of silence between them. "Actually, we're all lucky to have you. You've stepped up … a lot … since we first met. I'm not sure you know how much I depend on you, Aaron. I haven't told you that. Maybe I should have, but … well, there's been too much to take in lately." Rick stopped talking and gripped the steering wheel as he tried to find the words.

"Thanks," Aaron replied when Rick didn't seem to know what to say next.

After another bout of silence, Rick spoke again. "You got Maggie to Hilltop, and saw that she was safe, and now you're out here with me. Almost got yourself killed." Rick shook his head. "I guess what I'm trying to say is . . ."

"It's okay, Rick," Aaron said to him.

"No, I want you to know that … Glenn … Abraham … they were a huge part of the group. They did a lot. They were loved. They'll be missed tremendously. You have managed to step forward in a way that I haven't seen anyone do before. You're filling some pretty big shoes. I guess we all are, but you've gone beyond and you haven't complained or refused. You just fell right into the mix. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that, and how proud I am to have you at my side."

Aaron didn't know how to respond to that confession. Rick had praised him before, but not in this way, not with such emotion. He glanced at Aaron and allowed the corner of his mouth to curl into a half smile.

"I don't think I've ever seen you at a loss for words," Rick said. He gave Aaron a moment and continued. "We're going to get Daryl back. We just needed to stop and take a breath. The past couple weeks have been a numbing experience. Once we make good on Negan's next visit, then we can start coming up with a plan to bring Daryl home."

Aaron looked around, and saw that they were approaching the gate. They were finally home. Now he needed to tell Rick about Paul, and how he was already doing exactly what Rick had just mentioned. He was probably already at the Saviors compound. If Rick wanted to help, then maybe it should be to help Paul make good on his promise. "Actually, Jesus said he was going to–"

Aaron cut his words short when the gate rolled open and he saw the Saviors trucks inside. "They're already here," he whispered.

"Shit," Rick responded.

"Well, we've got a truck full of supplies. That should make them happy," Aaron said.

One of the Saviors waved them inside. Rick pulled up and the gate closed behind them. He got out of the truck and started to walk up the street to find Negan and make sure his people were safe. Another of the Savior men stopped him.

"Not so fast," the man said. "Let's see what's in the truck."

A few more people started taking boxes out of the truck, and looked through them. So far they were satisfied with what they saw. Rick stood in the street, not paying attention to them, but watching what was going on further in town. Aaron watched too. People were gathered in the street and … was that a pool table in the road?

"Hey," called out a woman Savior. "What the hell is this?"

Rick and Aaron turned to see what she was referring to. Aaron recognized it right away. It was the note he found on the boat, the drawing of the middle finger. "Oh, that," Aaron said easily.

The man that stopped Rick went to her to see what she was looking at. When he saw the drawing, he became irate, "What the fuck? Is this some kind of a joke?"

"I think it was," Aaron started to explain. "It seems as though the previous owner thought it would be funny to–"

The man grabbed Aaron by the collar and shoved him up against the side of the van. "So you thought it would be funny to put this in here for us to find," he accused.

"Oh … n-no. It wasn't me. I didn't draw that. I found it–"

"Shut the fuck up." Another man came up to Aaron and the first man as backup.

"Looks like we got a comedian," said the first man.

"Hey, I think there's a misunderstanding," Aaron started to explain.

Man number one held up the picture. "This looks pretty clear to me." He dropped the drawing and punched Aaron in the stomach.

Aaron doubled over, not expecting to be punched. Another fist in the stomach knocked the air out of him, and he fell to the ground in a fetal position. Aaron could see Rick becoming irritated. He put his hand out to stop him or matters might get worse. He tried all he could to get air back into his lungs, but it was taking longer than usual.

"Leave him alone," Rick said.

"I think you need to mind your own fucking business," said man number one. "We just need to get a few things straight with your man here." Both men proceeded to kick Aaron. Fortunately, he used to come across situations like this when he worked in Africa. His training with the NGO had taught him how to deflect or absorb hits from this kind of a beating. Laying on the ground, he curled up and let the outer parts of his body take the hits, protecting his stomach, face, and other delicate places that he hoped to use again someday. They got him in his back, legs and arms. They moved around him and kicked him until Aaron was moaning in pain, another trick, although he really was in pain. Moaning loudly told his attackers that they were doing what they set out to do. Remaining on the ground was a sign of submission. He just had to hope they didn't want to kill him, but he figured if they wanted to do that, they would have shot him already. This was just a lesson, a very painful lesson. All the while, Aaron wondered why he was being treated this way.

Eventually, the men stopped and walked away. Rick ran back to the truck, where Aaron was laying on the ground. He crouched down and put a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "Aaron. Aaron," he repeated worriedly.

Aaron looked up at Rick and managed a bloody smile. "They might have beat the crap out of me, but neither of them could throw a punch like Rick Grimes."

"Can you get up?" Rick asked, ignoring his weak attempt at humor.

"I think so. Gonna need some help though."

Rick helped Aaron up, slow and steadily, until he was standing. Aaron was still leaning on Rick. He'd done his best to protect his body, but he still took one hell of a beating. Everything hurt, and he could smell the iron tinge of blood. "They got me good," he told Rick. "Main thing is that my heart's still beating."

"It is," Rick agreed. Just as they took their first step, a shot rang out. Rick and Aaron looked at each other, and knew they had to go as fast as possible. Aaron picked up his pace, limping and then hopping on one leg as Rick pulled him along. Another shot went off, and they moved even faster.

They approached the crowd in the street. Everyone was gathered around a pool table that was in the road. As soon as they were close enough, Rick handed Aaron off to the first person he reached. Tobin turned just in time to take Aaron's weight. Tobin looked at him in shock. Aaron waved off his concern. "You should see the other guy," he joked. It was terrible timing, but he always said the dumbest things when he was scared or nervous. He realized that Tobin's shock wasn't for him or his bloody face. Something else had happened, and he got Tobin to help him get closer to the center of the crowd.

When Aaron was close enough, he saw a body lying in a pool of blood next to the pool table. It was Spenser. Aaron's heart raced and his breathing quickened. What the hell had happened here? Why were the Saviors already in Alexandria? They weren't expected for a couple more days. He wanted to ask, but not a single soul was talking. Negan was the only one, and he was talking to Rick. He started out by explaining the reason for his early return. Carl had snuck onto one of their trucks, and when he was discovered, he shot and killed two of Negan's men. He mentioned the fact that he brought Carl home safe and sound when he should have punished him for what happened. Negan, apparently, had been in town most of the day waiting for Rick to show. In the meantime, Spenser approached him with a concern. Negan said something about Spenser making a deal with him that would have meant getting rid of Rick and letting Spenser become the leader of Alexandria. Negan didn't like his cowardice and killed Spenser. He made it seem as though he was doing Rick a favor, weeding out the bad. That wasn't all. Rosita had a gun that no one knew about, and she took a shot at Negan after he killed Spenser. The bullet missed Negan, but it put a hole in Lucille, and he was pissed off that his beloved bat had taken damage. He found the casing of the spent bullet and realized that it was homemade. Now, Negan was trying to find out who made the bullet. No one was coming forward except for Rosita, but he knew she didn't make it. She was protecting someone. Rick demanded that Negan take his shit and leave, but Negan wouldn't go until he found out who made the bullet.

Aaron noticed movement on Olivia's porch and looked over to see what was happening. A few people were gathered there, kneeling over someone lying down. Aaron remembered hearing two shots. He recognized the shirt of the person on the floor. It was Olivia. He let go of Tobin and hobbled closer to the center. His ire was building. This wasn't fair. This wasn't what they agreed upon. Negan could just come anytime he wanted and start shooting their people. He heard Negan tell Rick he was sorry about Olivia, but that at least now Alexandria wouldn't have to worry about their food supply anymore. Aaron could feel his chest tighten. He'd had enough. It was all he could do not to lunge at Negan. Spenser and Olivia didn't deserve to die. Negan was not their leader, but he was acting like he was.

Rosita was still demanding that she was the bullet maker. Negan asked again, who made it, and ordered his guard, a rough looking woman called Arat, tp shoot someone else if he didn't get the truth. Arat raised her gun and started pointing it at different people.

"Stop!" Aaron shouted, unable to keep silent anymore. Arat aimed her gun at him, finger on the trigger and ready to launch another bullet.

"Hold up," Negan told her. "What do we have here? It's the boyfriend. Aaron, right?" Negan stepped closer, looking at Aaron's face. "What the fuck happened to your fucking face?" Aaron didn't answer. He didn't look away either, and Negan smiled. "I've got your man in my cell right now. I wish I could tell you how much he misses you, but he doesn't talk much. He did, however, open his mouth this morning, threatened me not to hurt Rick's kid, which I wouldn't do. He disobeyed one of my rules, though. And then I got this little future psychopath who killed two of my men. I still haven't dished out a punishment for that. Maybe you are the answer to my dilemma. Imagine what would happen to Daryl if I told him I killed his lover. He'd probably fall right in line, become one of my best men after I broke him. You know what? Arat," Negan commanded and she aimed her gun at Aaron's head again.

"It was me! It was me!" Eugene shouted. "I made the bullet."

Negan used a hand signal and Arat lowered her gun. He slowly turned to Eugene and approached. Eugene started reciting step by step instructions on how to make a bullet. Negan stopped him and said he believed him.

After that, Aaron didn't hear what was happening. He kept thinking of what Negan said about Daryl. It was the first he'd heard about him since he was taken. At least he was still alive. Aaron swallowed the lump in his throat. He was alive, he repeated in his mind. Alive and still fighting. But things had gotten tense here, and there was no telling what would happen once Negan went back to his compound. He might take it out on Daryl. He also noticed that it had been a few days since he left Hilltop, the same day Paul left to go find Daryl and the Savior's compound. Daryl was still there as of this morning. Now he wondered what happened to Paul. Did he get caught? Was he killed? Carl was there, and what the hell was that about? But if Carl was at the Savior's compound, had he seen any sign of Paul? Had he seen Daryl?

Aaron came out of his trance and watched as Negan ordered his people back to their vehicles. "And put this one in the van," he said as he looked at Eugene. "He's coming with us."

No, not Eugene, Aaron thought. Rosita started yelling for them to take her instead, but she was ignored. Eugene was rushed off and loaded into the back of a truck. No one could do anything at this point. Too much had already happened. Aaron was still trying to collect himself, still trying to deal with the pain of his beating, and just now realizing that two more of their people were dead.

Before Negan left, he told Rick that because of all the trouble, he was in the hole for owing the Saviors. Aaron wasn't sure what that meant, but now he was even more worried for Daryl. People started wandering off, some going back to their homes, some just walking away. Rick stayed and looked at the pool of Spenser's blood as it ran across the road and into the gutter. The familiar groaning noise started slowly, and Aaron saw Spenser reanimate. Rick was right there and stabbed him in the head. When he turned back around, Aaron could see a new fire in Rick's eyes.

"What do we do now?" Aaron asked.

"I think it's time we sought out help," Rick said. "What do you say we pay Hilltop a visit?"

* * *

 _ **That same day, early morning . . .**_

Daryl read the note several more times. 'Go now', it said, a key and a matchstick taped to it. He had heard the door to his cell unlock, had seen the shadow of feet hurry away. He wasn't sure what was going on. Last time someone ' _accidentally'_ left his door unlocked, it was a setup, a test to see what he would do. He was led right into a trap, surrounded by Saviors, confronted by Negan, and then had the holy hell beat out of him. He didn't want to think about what happened after that, when Brady came to his cell and . . .

Why should he be sucked into another game, he thought? "I'll open this door and they'll be there ready to fuck me up again," Daryl whispered to himself. It was different this time, though. The first time, the door was left unlocked. This time, there was a note and a key. He didn't think Negan would go to the trouble to stage something in this way. Daryl had a feeling deep in his chest that maybe someone was actually trying to help him escape. Should he take the risk? He fumbled with the idea for a minute or two, and then he made the decision to go.

Daryl laid down on the floor of the cell and looked under the door. He couldn't see anyone out in the hall and it was quiet. He tried the door handle and it opened. Looking at the note one more time, he breathed deep and set his mind to work. Daryl slipped out of the door, hugged the wall and went carefully down the hallway. The key, he thought was probably to a car or some kind of vehicle. The matchstick threw him for a loop. Was he supposed to burn the note? It seemed like a useless step. Besides, lighting a fire wasn't the best idea while trying to sneak out of a place he had no clue how to navigate.

"Wait a minute," he thought to himself. He took a closer look at the floor. Sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed. Every few feet or so, there was a matchstick on the floor, laying close to the wall so it wasn't noticeable. The matches were there to lead him out of the compound. Who the hell was doing this, he wondered? As long as it was legitimate, and he didn't find himself face to face with Negan at the end of the matchstick trail, that's all that mattered.

He was about to turn a corner, and heard voices. Suddenly, a jar crashed onto the floor, spilling its contents. Daryl had to hide before whoever was around the corner saw him. He looked around, saw a door and tried the handle. It was unlocked, and he slipped inside. It wasn't the smartest move, and when he saw that it was someone's room, he felt a slight bit of panic run through his chest. His eyes scanned the room quickly, and he found it unoccupied. If someone had been in there, he wouldn't have hesitated to break their neck and keep them silent.

The voices were just outside the door, as they stopped to clean up their mess. He couldn't leave until the coast was clear again. So, Daryl took the moment to look around at his surroundings. The first thing he saw was a shirt and pants, and a baseball hat. This was great. He needed to get out of his prisoner garb. Besides, the sweat suit was dirty and smelled like a backed up toilet. Wearing normal clothes might help him not get noticed too easily. Not everyone knew who he was, and there were so many Saviors, it wouldn't be too suspicious to come across someone that didn't recognize him. He shrugged out of his clothes and put on the flannel shirt, pants and hat. Putting his ear to the door, he could still hear movement outside.

"What else we got in here?" he said to himself. He opened a cabinet door and found a jar of peanut butter. This was like finding gold. Daryl hadn't had a proper meal in almost two weeks. He'd been fed dogfood and stale bread. It was enough to keep him alive, but it wasn't much in the way of nutrition. He was always starving. Daryl quickly unscrewed the lid and dipped his fingers into the soft, sticky goodness. He sucked it off his fingers, closed his eyes and savored the taste of real food. It didn't matter that he didn't have anything to wash it down with. His mouth was salivating so heavily, it was enough to get the peanut butter down. Eating it made him weak in the knees, and he sat down on a chair. He looked around the room while he ate, and saw little wooden figures sitting on a table. They were hand carved. There was only one person he knew here who carved figures out of wood.

"This is Dwight's room," he said. Dwight … Negan's right hand man. He tried to make Daryl think he had it so good here at the Sanctuary. He made him think he had a nice studio apartment like the one Negan offered Daryl if he would just comply and give himself in service to the Saviors. Now, Daryl saw the truth. Not only did Dwight loose his wife to Negan, and had his face permanently disfigured by a hot iron, but he lived in a room that was smaller than a dorm room, barely enough room for a bed and a chair. Clothes were piled on top of a side table because there was nowhere else to put them. The bed was actually a cot, something used for camping, not for everyday living. There was no kitchen, no bookshelves filled with books, no microwave and coffee pot. There was nothing here. It was a piece of shit, hole in the wall room. Daryl had more space in his prison cell than Dwight had here. The promises and bribes for better living were all lies. Daryl would have ended up with a janitor closet, not that nice apartment.

He must have eaten half of the jar of peanut butter when he noticed that it got quiet outside. Daryl waited a few more moments for good measure, affixed the baseball cap to his head, and reached for the door. He paused and turned back to look at the little wooden figurine. "Fuck you," he said, and he upturned the table, throwing everything to the floor. Then he left.

In the hall, he picked up the match trail again, and followed it. Along the way, he found a pipe leaning against a wall, and wondered if it was put there on purpose. He grabbed it because he needed some kind of weapon. A couple times he had to duck into an alcove or hurry past an open door with people inside playing cards. By some miracle, he didn't come across anyone who tried to stop him. He hadn't had to kill anyone either. It would have been nice to have a better weapon than a pipe, but right now, the most important thing he had was the key. The matches led him to a door that was slightly cracked open, not enough to be noticed. He pushed it open carefully, and saw something fall to the ground. It was the matchbook. Someone used it to keep the door from locking. Daryl wished he knew who was helping him, and he still hoped that it wasn't a set up.

The door opened into a familiar place. It was the same yard where he escaped to the last time. There was a box van and a row of motorcycles parked alongside it. "That's what the key is for." It went to one of the motorcycles. Immediately, he went from one to the other trying to find the one that the key went to. As he tried a third bike, something caught his eye. He looked up and saw one of them, a Savior. It was Joey, the kid who stood watch while he was raped, the kid he begged for help who turned away, wouldn't look at him, closed the door to the cell and let Brady assault him. To say he was enraged was an understatement. Daryl abandoned the bike and his mission, picked up the long metal pipe and stared at Joey.

As soon as Joey came around from behind the van, he saw Daryl and stopped. He had a sandwich in his hand, and a gun inside his belt. Daryl looked from one to the other. When he saw the gun, he recognized it. That was Rick's gun. Joey followed Daryl's line of sight and knew what he was looking at.

"Hey man, I don't want no trouble," he said as he lifted his arms in the air, the sandwich still in one of his hands. "You want to go? I won't stop you. I won't even tell anyone that I saw you here. Just … just go on. I swear I won't say a word."

He was just a young kid, Daryl thought. If things were different, he should have been in college or sitting in his parent's basement playing video games. Instead, he was surviving like everyone else, only he picked the wrong group to side with. There was no telling what he had learned from the Saviors. They were a ruthless type, and even though Joey seemed harmless, Daryl couldn't be sure. Harmless was one thing, but Joey was a coward. He would rather turn away, forget what he saw and not get involved. Daryl remembered his face as he said he was sorry and closed the cell door. He blamed Joey just as much, if not more than Brady.

Everything came rushing back, the cold dark cell, trying to fight off his attacker, but unable to find the strength after getting beat up. He could hear Brady's voice, his grunts and moans. He could smell the musty cell and the scent of a man's desire. He remembered Brady telling him to think about Aaron while he raped him. He could still hear Brady saying Aaron's name, and the filth that spilled out of his mouth. It didn't have to happen if only Joey refused to stand guard.

"You knew what he was going to me, and you let him do it," Daryl said in a seething voice.

"I'm sorry, man. I know I should have done something, but Brady was a psycho. He told me that if I squealed I'd go down too. He knew Negan's rule about forcing yourself on someone. I'd always thought that pertained to women. I never thought about it … the other way around."

Daryl stepped towards Joey, each foot strategically placed. He held the pipe in his hand, hanging at his side. "I begged you to do something. I looked you right in the fucking eyes. You saw what was going to go down. You knew it before you got to the cell. That's why you said you'd watch the door." As Daryl spoke, each sentence got louder than the last.

Joey was sweating. He looked like he might cry. He was the one begging now. For the first time since coming to this place, Daryl held the power, and Joey knew it.

"Please, dude, just let me go. I swear … I swear I won't stop you, and I won't tell anyone that I saw you."

"I'd like to believe you, but so far you haven't proven to me that I can trust you." Daryl was almost on top of him. Joey had backed himself up until he bumped into the side of the van.

"Hey, man, he got his. Brady's chained to the fence now. He's one of them. Negan killed him and let him turn," Joey reminded him.

"Yeah, I saw him out there. Maybe he got what he deserved. Maybe it wasn't enough. All I know is that I wasn't the one who got to do the honors." Daryl was lifting the pipe, not realizing the stance he was taking.

"Please don't hurt me," Joey begged. "I'm just surviving like you are. I have to do what I'm told."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

"What?" Joey asked.

"When you beg and plead because it's the only thing left you can do, but no one hears a word you're saying. I don't hear you. All I see is a coward, an accomplice to the injustice done to me. I didn't get to have my revenge on Brady. Guess you'll have to do." He raised the pipe over his head.

Joey dropped the sandwich and pissed his pants. "If you do this–"

"No fucking regrets," Daryl said, and he brought the pipe down on Joey's head. Joey went down right away, his limp body lying on the ground. Daryl watched him a moment, and saw the guy's chest move so he knew he was still breathing. Blood trickled down from where the pipe split the skin open at his temple. Joey was unconscious, but still breathing. Daryl could walk away, now that Joey was out. He could get on that bike and ride the fuck out of this place. Maybe that's what he should have done, but he couldn't forget how he begged Joey for help, and how the kid turned his eyes away and closed the door. All of the emotions Daryl had kept bottled up started to surface. He'd been violated by a man much stronger than him at the time. Daryl was weak from starvation and from the beating. He laid bloody and lethargic on the dirty cell floor. He remembered the feel of his pants coming down, of Brady covering him, spreading his legs, forcing himself inside while unprepared. It burned and tore his body. It brought on despair and hopelessness as the man raped him, enjoying himself as he forced Daryl to say Aaron's name. And when Brady said his name, it poisoned Daryl's world. He was tainted. He was ruined. How could he ever face Aaron again? How could he say his name and not hear Brady's voice.

"You could have helped me," Daryl said as he looked down at Joey's unconscious body. "You could have done something … anything. You didn't do a fucking thing. You let him rape me. You don't deserve another chance. You don't deserve anything." Daryl felt his arms bring the pipe over his head, but he felt like he wasn't in control. It was almost like he was watching from a distance when the pipe came down full force on Joey's head. The pipe went up again and came down even harder. Over and over, the pipe smashed down until Joey's face was unrecognizable. The voices in his head were too many.

"Bet you wished you could have done that to me years ago," said Jay from his childhood.

"I knew you had it in you, little brother," said Merle, his dead brother. "Guess being a fag hasn't made you a total pussy."

"If anything happens to me, just know that I went down fighting," Daryl remembered himself telling Aaron. But he didn't fight hard enough as he laid on the dirty floor with Brady pounding into him. He gave up too easily. At least it felt that way.

"I bet Aaron doesn't fuck you like this," said Brady. "Go on, say his name. Tell him you love him while I shoot my load up your ass. Do it!" And a knife had punctured his side, threatening to slip between his ribs. Daryl had no choice but to say it.

"Who are you?" said Negan when he confronted Daryl in the small apartment. "Who … are … you?"

Who was he now, Daryl thought, as he watched the pipe come down onto a bloody puddle of mush? This was what Abraham looked like. This was what Glenn looked like. This was what Negan did to them. This was what Daryl was doing right now. He was no better than Negan. He was copying him. At one time, Daryl had been terrorized that his would happen to him. Now, he felt strength and power as he did it to someone else. Who was he? Who was he now?

"I … I-I … am … I a-am … Ne–"

"Daryl?" someone said.

The sound of a new voice shook him from his trance. He looked up and saw Jesus standing behind the truck. He must have been hallucinating. Jesus wouldn't be here. Daryl blinked his eyes and wiped the blood from his face. He paused from swinging the pipe as he looked at Jesus. Then he looked down at his victim and lifted the pipe again. Who was he? He asked himself again.

"Daryl, stop. It's over. It's over," Jesus said in the most soothing voice he'd heard in a long time.

"Jesus?" he asked, just to make sure this was real.

"Yeah. It's me. I'm here to take you home."

"They're letting me go home?" Daryl asked, confused.

Jesus shook his head. "They don't know I'm here, which is why we got to get the hell out of here." He glanced down at the body, but he didn't say anything about it.

It seemed that this was real. Daryl looked down at his hands. One still held onto the key. He raised it so Jesus could see. "I've got a bike."

"Good. Let's go then. Ready?" Jesus said calmly.

Daryl nodded and looked down at Joey's body. He saw the silver metal of Rick's gun peeking out from under his shirt. Daryl took it off the body and tucked it into his waistband. "Now I'm ready." By instinct, Daryl hopped on the bike, inserted the key and started it up. Jesus was hesitant to get on.

"You sure you're up to driving?" Jesus asked.

"Yeah, I … I think I am … I don't know … I'm still kind of–"

"Why don't you let me drive, at least until we're out of danger. Then, if you want you can take over. Okay?" Jesus suggested, giving Daryl a choice.

Daryl was so confused by this. He hadn't been given the ability to make decisions in a long time. He was still coming out of his nightmare. Just moments ago, voices were invading his mind. Now he was about to escape with Jesus. Then it dawned on him. "I saw you earlier, didn't I? You were on top of that truck. I thought I saw you, but when I looked back, you were gone."

"That was me," Jesus said, allowing a small smile. "I slipped off the truck before it took off."

Daryl closed his eyes and focused on that moment. "Carl was here. He was in that truck. I thought you were going to follow it, keep an eye on Carl, keep him safe."

"I was, but that wasn't my mission." Jesus glanced over Daryl's shoulder. He was keeping an eye on the door in case they were spotted. So far no one came out into the courtyard. "How about we leave this place, and then I'll fill in all the blanks."

"Yeah, okay," Daryl agreed. "You know how to drive a bike?"

"I do actually. I had one before … before."

Daryl hung his head as it finally seemed like this was actually happening. He was free. "Wow," he said quietly. "Okay. Let's get out of this fucking place." Daryl got off the bike, and Jesus got in his place. Then Daryl got on behind him."

"Tell me if you need to stop. Just let me get far enough away from this place first," Jesus suggested.

"I won't need to stop. Just tell me where we're going," Daryl said.

"Hilltop," Jesus answered. With that, they were off.

Daryl was impressed with Jesus' ability to handle a bike. They drove fast, sticking to the road, and always keeping an eye out for other cars. They were lucky. They were the only travelers on the road. And then Jesus made a turn, going in a direction that took them away from Hilltop. Jesus said he wanted to dump the bike. He couldn't take it to Hilltop. If the Saviors came and found it, they'd be in trouble.

"I've got a car hidden along the road this way. We'll dump the bike and take the car the rest of the way," Jesus informed.

"Good idea," Daryl agreed.

It was a good twenty minutes out of the way, but worth it. Once they picked up the car, Daryl hid the bike in the tree line. In no time, they were back on the road. This would be the first opportunity for them to talk, but Daryl remained silent for the first ten minutes or so. He had so many questions, but he was afraid to learn the answers. He asked the most important question first.

"Where's Aaron?"

Jesus smiled. "He's in Alexandria. Aaron is fine. He was at Hilltop for a little while, but he had to get home."

"So he's alright? He's not injured or–"

"Aaron is good, and he's never stopped thinking about you or getting you out of the Savior's compound. He was going to go find you, alone. I talked him out of it, but to do so I had to promise him I'd bring you back," Jesus admitted.

Daryl was a little surprised by that. He'd never treated Jesus very well. He didn't like him, didn't trust him. He had been jealous of the way he was always around Aaron whenever Daryl was gone. Jesus was the last person Daryl expected to come looking for him. Now he was learning that Jesus was watching out for Aaron, and that meant a lot to him.

"Thanks," Daryl said quietly.

"So, looks like you took a beating. You alright?" Jesus asked.

Daryl wished all it had been was a beating. He had to think about his answer a moment. Was he alright? "I'm fine," he answered, but it felt like a lie.

"That guy you were … uh … when I found you, did he do that to you?" Jesus wondered.

Daryl shook his head. "He did something else. Negan did this … his men." Daryl refused to give away too much of what happened to him while he was held captive. There would be a time for that later, not with Jesus, and not until he had time to reconnect with his life. "You know what happened to anyone else from my group?" he asked to change the subject.

"Maggie and Sasha are at Hilltop."

How could he have forgotten? "So she didn't lose the–"

"No," Jesus smiled again. "She has to take it easy, but Doctor Carson said she should be able to carry full term. That's why she's there, in case she needs a doctor. Sasha is staying for support and to help take care of her. They're going to be ecstatic to see you."

"Sasha maybe will," Daryl mumbled to himself. He wasn't sure he was ready to face Maggie. What if she blamed him for Glenn's death? He couldn't think about that right now. "What was Carl doing at Negan's place? How'd he get there?"

"The Saviors were at Hilltop. I ducked into their truck and found Carl hiding in it too. I had no idea he was there. I'd never have let him go otherwise. We were supposed to jump out before we got too close to the compound." Jesus stopped to huff and laugh as he remembered Carl's innocent act. "The kid tricked me. Told me to jump out of the truck first so he could see how to do it."

"And he didn't jump," Daryl said, amused by Carl's brave decision. "Sounds like something I would have done at his age." Daryl turned to look at Jesus, who was driving the car. "You should have stayed with him, on top of that van. Where the hell was Negan taking him?"

"As a sign of good faith, he was taking him home, unharmed. Negan won't hurt him. He knows that will set Rick off, and right now I think he has Rick where he wants him. Something I've been learning about Negan is that he likes to keep people in line. He knows when he needs to discipline, and when to be gentle. He uses just the right amount of scare tactics to get communities to submit and do as he says. He needs those communities to work for him so that he can keep his own people happy. He needs Rick working for him, so the last thing he's going to do is hurt Rick's son. Besides, I was there to find you. I made Aaron a promise, and I meant to keep it."

"Looks like you did. Again, thanks," Daryl said. He didn't talk anymore after that, and kept quiet until they finally arrived at the Hilltop colony.

The gate opened before they got to it, and Jesus drove inside. The gate closed behind them. The car pulled to the side and stopped. Jesus got out and saw Sasha leaving the trailer, and approaching him. Daryl stayed in the car a moment. It was all too much. Not long before, he had been a prisoner. Now here he was at Hilltop, and seeing Sasha brought back every emotion he'd buried.

"Did you find out where the Saviors live?" Sasha asked.

"I did," Jesus said. "And I did you one better." He turned to the car and called. "Come on out."

The car door opened and Daryl stepped out. He stood straight, but remained by the car. He didn't know how Sasha was going to react to him. At first, her eyes grew two sizes as though she'd seen a ghost. Tears threatened her eyes, and her bottom lip quivered. "Daryl?" she said, her voice cracking.

Daryl looked at her through his long grimy hair. He blinked several time, reigning in his emotions. Then he nodded to her, not ready to hear his own voice just yet.

"Daryl! Thank God," Sasha said as she walked to him with a hurried stride. She didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him. She held him so tight, it hurt his sore ribs, but he didn't complain. It felt good, the pain. It meant he was alive. It meant Sasha wasn't mad at him, didn't blame him. But there was still Maggie to contend with. He wondered where she was.

Sasha let go of Daryl and smiled at Jesus. "You did this?" she asked and he nodded.

Sasha looked back at Daryl, finally seeing his injuries. "What did they do to you?" she asked like a worried mother.

"I'll be fine," he said to make her stop fussing over him.

"Oh my God, wait until … hold on … let me get Maggie," Sasha said with excitement.

Daryl stayed where he was, and watched her go back inside the trailer. She came out with Maggie following behind. Sasha stepped to the side to allow the reunion to happen. Daryl studied Maggie's face. She was stone faced and difficult to read. She took each step towards him slow and steady. Daryl prepared for whatever Maggie was about to throw at him, whether verbal or physical. If she slapped him or punched him, he knew he deserved it, and he wouldn't stop her. Maggie came all the way, standing in front of him. She just stared at him, and then she brought her hand up. Daryl winced. He thought she was about to hit him, but she didn't. Instead, she pushed his hair from his face. He opened his eyes and found her with tears streaking down her face.

"Daryl," she whispered, and she put her arms around him.

Daryl stood still as a pillar, but when she tightened her hold on him, he finally broke down, wrapped his arms around her, and cried into her shoulder. "Maggie. Oh Maggie. I was so … I thought you … I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Hey, hey," she said soothingly. "It's okay. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Please don't blame yourself. I don't blame you. I'm just glad your back. I was worried. I didn't know what had happened to you, but you're here, and that's what matters."

They held onto each other for a while longer, and with each second that passed, Daryl felt a little better about their reunion. It was a lot off his mind, and he had a dump truck sized load of thoughts. There would be a lot to talk about, but for right now, he needed this comfort from Maggie.

"Why don't you come to our trailer," Maggie suggested. "I know this is a lot to take in right now."

"I'll bring you something to eat," Jesus said. He wanted to give them time alone to talk.

Daryl nodded and said, "Good, but no sandwiches."

He followed Maggie and Sasha into the trailer, and Maggie told him to sit on the couch, so he did. He looked around the place. "You living here now?"

"For the time being, at least until the baby is born," Maggie said. "This was Jesus' place, but he never stayed here."

Jesus again. It seemed like he was involved in everything. There was a time Daryl wouldn't have liked that, but he realized that everything Jesus had done recently was for the good of his people.

"How did you get away?" Sasha asked. "Did Jesus–"

"Someone helped me escape, but said it wasn't him. He found me after I … after," he said, stopping himself from revealing what he'd done to Joey. They didn't need to know about that. "I don't know who it was, but someone unlocked my cell, left clues and a key to a bike in the yard. I wish I knew who it was. I owe them." He looked from one woman to the other. "Have you heard from Rick or anyone back home?"

Maggie frowned and looked down at her fingers laced together. She shook her head. "No. I don't know what's happened to them."

Sasha smiled sweetly. "Aaron was here for a short while, but he back in Alexandria. He misses you so much."

Daryl let his hair cover his face so it wouldn't reveal his emotions. "Yeah, I miss him too," he said in barely a whisper. He swallowed the lump in his throat and changed the subject. "So, what do you do around here to have fun?"

The women laughed lightly, and looked at each other. Maggie answered. "Well, I spend most of my time eating. It's the strangest feeling. I have to constantly eat. If I go too long without food, I feel sick." She rubbed her belly. "Dr. Carson said that's a good sign. It means the baby is growing."

"Maggie has literally scarfed down three apple pies so far. And she's on some strange cereal kick," Sasha added.

"Yeah, well, that's only going to last so long until the cereal is gone, but I'm sure by then I'll have another craving. And that's another thing. My senses are heightened. I can smell things I've never smelled before, and at a great distance too. The only thing I can't stand is the scent of meat roasting on a fire, and I have no desire to eat meat either."

Daryl smiled at this. He'd never known a pregnant woman before, but he'd heard things from some of the women he grew up around. They would compare pregnancies, and give each other advice. He remembered what one woman said. "The baby knows what it needs, and it's sending signals to you. Just listen to your cravings."

Jesus came back with a basket of bread and fruit. He put it on the table. "This was all I could come up with on such short notice. Dinner is in a couple hours though. I figure this will tide you over until then."

Daryl was already digging through the basket, and he took out a juicy red apple. He bit into it and closed his eyes, chewing slowly to savor it. That only lasted until the first bite was gone. Then he devoured the delicious fruit.

"Didn't they feed you?" Sasha asked, but with a serious tone.

"They gave me dog good on moldy bread," Daryl said with a mouthful of apple.

Maggie moved so that she was sitting next to him on the couch. While he ate, she moved his hair away to look at the bruises on his face. He turned his head and winced involuntarily. Maggie noticed his response, like a dog cowering from a human hand. "What did they do to you?" she asked with concern.

"What's it look like?" he said with little patience.

It looked like they beat him, but his reaction was strange. He couldn't help it right now. He had been conditioned with all the threats and the torture of being in that dark cell for days at a time.

"I'm going to give you guys some time alone to catch up," Jesus said. "I'll see you all at dinner I hope."

Maggie raised her hand. "You know I'll be there."

Jesus smiled and started to leave, but he turned to Sasha. "Hey, can I speak to you a moment?"

"Sure," she said, and she followed him outside, leaving Daryl and Maggie alone.

"What's that about?" Daryl asked.

Maggie shrugged. "I don't know." She watched Daryl eat the rest of the apple and search the basket for something else. He took out the bread and laid it to the side. "Sweet," he sang when he saw a bunch of grapes.

"They do well for themselves here at Hilltop. There's a garden, but it's outside the walls. It's not far. I think they found it when they first occupied the house. It was probably here before the outbreak, but no one was around to take care of it, and it got overgrown. There are blackberries too. They grow wild all around the place."

"We think a lot alike, Alexandria and Hilltop. It's important that we maintain a relationship with them," Daryl said.

"Yes it is. Unfortunately, they have no weapons. Negan took all of their guns. They have a blacksmith who make knives, swords and spears."

"At least that's something," Daryl said. "You seem to have a good rapport with Hilltop. What are your thoughts on this place?"

"Everyone has been very accepting, everyone but Gregory. He fights us every step of the way. Jesus had to talk him into letting me stay here until the baby was born. He's afraid the Saviors will find me and Sasha, and burn the place down for harboring Alexandrians. But the thing is, people care about me and the baby. Gregory's hand has been forced. If he kicked me out now, he would lose all of his people's respect."

The door flew open, grabbing Daryl and Maggie's attention. "Daryl? Oh my God, Daryl!" Enid cried, and she ran to him.

As she hugged him, Daryl was hesitant to hug her back. He hadn't had much time to get to know her since she came to Alexandria, but he knew that she was very attached to Maggie. He patted her back and she moved away with questions. "Did you see Carl? Did he make it? He said he was going to find the Saviors," she rushed to ask.

"I saw him briefly. Negan found him, but he fine. He's being sent back to Alexandria right now," Daryl said. "But how did you know about Carl?"

"Carl was here?" Maggie asked, surprised.

"Oops," Enid said.

"What's going on, Enid?" Maggie said with a stern voice.

She had to tell the truth. "Carl wouldn't let me go alone to Hilltop, but when we got here, the Saviors were already here. We hid in the woods and watched. He said he had to go. He said he was going to follow the Saviors back to their compound. I couldn't stop him, and I wouldn't go with him. I only wanted to see you and make sure you were was okay," she told Maggie.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Maggie insisted.

"I promised him I wouldn't."

"What are we going to do with you kids?" Maggie berated.

"Listen," Daryl broke in. "Carl is fine. Negan wouldn't hurt him." He remembered what Jesus had told him. "He knows Carl is Rick's son. He's taking him home as a sign of good faith."

"I hope you're right?" Enid said with worry.

"I was there for almost two weeks. I know how Negan works. Carl will be fine."

Sasha came back inside after talking to Jesus. "Jesus said you can take his room in the house while you're here."

Daryl shook his head. "I'm alright. I'll find a place on my own." He didn't want anything from Jesus. He was afraid what it might cost him. He was so used to things running that way after being confined by the Saviors.

"Carl was here," Maggie told Sasha. "He found the Saviors."

"What?" Sasha said, surprised by the sudden news.

"Daryl saw him, and said he's being sent back to Alexandria," Maggie told her.

"How can you be sure that's what's going on?" Sasha asked Daryl.

"I just do," Daryl said tersely.

"Should we do something?" Sasha asked. "I can go back to Alexandria."

"You can't go any more than I can," Maggie told her. "Negan probably thinks we're dead, and we need to keep it that way. I trust Daryl, and if he says Carl is okay, then he is. None of us should go anywhere for now."

"They'll be looking for Daryl," Sasha pointed out. "If the Saviors come here and see him–"

"They won't find me. I'm not staying," Daryl said.

"Where are you going to go?" Maggie asked.

"I don't know, but I can't be here. I'm putting Hilltop at risk. And I can't go home. That's the first place they'll look for me," Daryl said.

"What about Aaron?" Maggie said. "He's worried sick about you."

"I don't know. I'll get a message to him or something." Daryl hadn't thought that far ahead yet.

"Well, you're not going anywhere right now," Sasha demanded. "Look at you? You need time to heal and recover. You're staying here for a few days at least. In the meantime, we'll figure something out."

"Yeah," Daryl said, but he didn't sound very impressed by the plan so far. He wanted to stay with Maggie and Sasha. He wished more than anything that he could go home and see Aaron. He needed to reconnect. Aaron was his strength, but he wouldn't put him at risk. He could send him a message, though. Jesus could take it. He was stealthy. He could get to Alexandria and tell Aaron that he was safe. Aaron would want to see him, though, and he wouldn't give up trying until Daryl and Aaron reunited. Maybe Sasha was right. He needed to take a couple days and figure something out. Maybe just one day. He couldn't stay at Hilltop long. Negan would send his men to Alexandria first. Hilltop would be next. At least he had a little bit of a head start. Negan wouldn't know Daryl was missing until he returned to the Sanctuary, but as soon as he found out, he'd send his hounds after him. Daryl didn't like being on the run, but he was used to it. He could do it again. He had no choice now. Anywhere he went, he was putting people at risk. He started to lose faith in seeing Aaron any time soon. Aaron was the last person he wanted to put in harm's way. Daryl would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant going far away.

When he was done talking with the women, he started to leave. Maggie and Sasha followed him, but he stood to the side to let them leave the trailer first. Once they weren't looking, he took Rick's gun out of his belt and left it on the table. He was making his mind up to leave. Maybe the best thing for everyone was to get as far away from them as possible.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46 Meet the Neighbors**

Aaron set out for Hilltop with Rick, Michonne, Carl, Rosita, and Tara. They only had one plan so far, and that was to try and convince Gregory to help them fight the Saviors. "I'm not so sure that's going to work," Aaron told Rick as they traveled along the road. "Gregory isn't very cooperative. It was like pulling teeth just to get him to agree to let Maggie and Sasha stay."

"The way I see it, he owes us," Rick said. "We took out the satellite station. We didn't give up Hilltop to the Saviors about working together. We've been protecting them all this time, and we've lost quite a few people in the process."

"That's not how Gregory thinks," Aaron warned.

"We'll see," Rick said, ending the conversation.

A little further down the road, they stopped for a short break to let anyone who had to relieve themselves do so. Carl was standing off by himself, and Aaron approached him. He hadn't had an opportunity to speak to him until now. "You were at the Sanctuary," Aaron said. "Did you happen to see Jesus?"

"I did," Carl said. "He hopped into the same van I happened to be hiding in, but he jumped out before we got too close to their compound."

"He left you?" Aaron said, shocked that Paul would do such a thing.

"Not exactly. He told me to jump too, but I tricked him. I got him to go first, and then I didn't. I stayed with the van and rode it all the way inside their fences." Carl seemed proud of himself and his quick thinking.

"Did you see him while you were there?" Aaron asked.

Carl shook his head. "No, but I saw Daryl."

Aaron's heart beat rapidly. "How did he look?"

"Dirty, tired and. . ." Carl paused as though he didn't want Aaron to know.

"And what," Aaron asked in a demanding voice. "Was he okay? Was he still in one piece?"

Carl sighed. "He looked beat up. His eyes were black and he had a cut on his lip. He was wearing a grimy sweat suit with a letter A painted on it, and he was barefoot. They had him out in the yard messing with walkers, chaining them to the fence. I think it's part of their security. They use the dead as an added barrier to keep people out. Daryl saw me too. He was shocked to see me." Carl hung his head. "I wish I could have done something for him. I wish I could have helped him get away, but Negan kept me at his side the whole time. That place is messed up. Most of the people there are scared of Negan. They're afraid of what he'll do to them. They're scared of becoming like those walkers on the fence."

"That's something to keep in mind when we go to fight them," Aaron said.

"You think we can convince some of them to join us?" Carl wondered.

"I don't know. We would need to meet with some of them, come up with a plan. It's kind of farfetched at this point. And like you said, they're scared, maybe too scared to go up against Negan. Any attempt to work with them would more than likely backfire, and Negan would know we were coming."

It felt like every time someone came up with an idea, it didn't play out very well. Aaron knew the first thing they needed was the manpower. Then they could start talking strategy. He still wasn't sure how they were going to fight without guns. Neither Alexandria nor Hilltop had any firepower. The Saviors took it all. Even though Hilltop could produce knives, swords and spears, that wouldn't be enough.

Rick emerged from the tree line and gathered everyone to him. "We'll get a little closer to Hilltop, and then we're going to hide the car and walk the rest of the way. I don't want to advertise that we're working with Hilltop by parking right outside the gate. The Saviors will find out soon enough, if they don't already suspect it."

* * *

Morning. Daryl didn't sleep last night. He turned down Jesus' offer to take his room in the great house. Instead, he kept gate duty with the other guards. The first thing he noticed was that they meant well, but they slacked on guard skills. They were easily distracted because they were bored. Daryl had heard about the break in and how the guards were captured. They never saw the Saviors coming. It was worrisome because now, Maggie and Sasha were here. He knew they were better at the game, but he didn't like their lives being in someone else's hands.

He thought about the story Maggie told him, how they were locked inside their trailer, and how they escaped. Aaron had been there too. He fought alongside Sasha and Jesus, killing walkers in the yard while Maggie took it upon herself to deal with the Pinto boom box. Aaron was here, he kept thinking to himself. While Daryl was imprisoned at the Sanctuary, he often wondered where Aaron was. He could conjure up visions of him in Alexandria, at their home, safe, warm, taken care of. He hadn't known he was at Hilltop, working with Jesus to convince Gregory to let the women stay. Of course he would be. That's how Aaron was. Daryl should have known he wouldn't be sitting around waiting for someone to tell him what to do. He was a fighter, always the first one out there. He'd be fine on his own, Daryl thought. He knew he couldn't stay here, even though he let Sasha think she convinced him. He had to go. He had to get away from Hilltop, and away from everyone he loved and cared about. The Saviors could be anywhere, and if they found him with anyone from either of those two communities, people would die.

Daryl came down from the wall just as the sun was coming up. He needed to go before Maggie came for her shift. He knew she always took over at daybreak. Now was a good time to go. Most people were still sleeping. There were only a few people around. They were milking the cows, feeding the chickens, or preparing the kitchen to start breakfast for the community. It wouldn't be long before Hilltop was abuzz with life. He needed to get out before anyone noticed. Looking around the yard, he saw the blacksmith shop. Surely they wouldn't mind if he just took a knife or two. He had nothing with him. He had lost everything. Even his clothes were borrowed. His bike, his winged vest and his crossbow were still at the Sanctuary. Those things didn't matter anymore. All he needed was a knife. He could hunt for food, gather supplies and start finding things along the way. He'd find an old shack or something to set up camp in. Then he would move on, not staying in one place for very long. The Saviors were a large community, but only a small amount of them went out, and they didn't go very far. They depended on lesser communities for supplies. Daryl could just keep going and soon he'd be far enough away that they wouldn't find him. He snuck into the smithy, which was open anyway, and started looking at his options. A strong blade would be his first choice.

"This was the same place I found Aaron when he was going to skip out," Jesus said from behind.

"What the fuck?" Daryl exclaimed, caught off guard.

Jesus couldn't help but laugh. "Aaron was going to bail to go look for you, and I caught him here doing this exact thing. You two are a lot alike."

Daryl held his hand to his chest to feel his racing heart. Once he regained his composure, he went back to looking at knives. "Aaron was here, huh? You told me he was going to track the Saviors, but you stopped him. I, uh, I really appreciate you looking out for him."

"He's one stubborn son of a bitch," Jesus added. "I had to make a deal with him to wait until morning."

"I guess you're going to try and bargain with me now," Daryl wondered. "It's already morning, so you can't use that."

"I know there's not a thing I could say to you that would make you stay, even if I think you're making a mistake," Jesus said.

"My mistake would be staying and getting more people killed. You saw them. The Saviors don't fuck around. They're going to send out their best to go looking for me. You know as well as I do that they're probably coming here too."

"So you're going to run away, they'll never find you, and everyone gets to live," Jesus said in an accusatory tone.

"Someone let me out of that place, and it was someone from within. That's who's gonna get punished. Negan will send his guys to Alexandria, probably here too. When they don't turn anything up, they'll give up and that's that."

"Or they'll kill one of your people, maybe one of mine … one of each perhaps, as retribution for your disappearance. What if it's Aaron?"

"Don't say that," Daryl said softly. He stopped searching through a box of spearheads, and put both of his hands on the workbench in front of him. He hung his head and sighed deep.

"You can stay here. I know of places where I can hide you, and they'll never find you," Jesus offered.

"You're already doing that for Maggie and Sasha. I don't want to hide. I just want to disappear."

"What about Aaron? What do you think he's going to do when he finds out you're gone? You really think he's not going to go looking for you?" Jesus argued. He stood with his feet apart and arms crossed.

"You're his friend, aren't you? You talked him out of it once. You can do it again. He seems to listen to you," Daryl justified.

"He loves you, Daryl. There's nothing I can say to him that would keep him from searching for you. The only reason it worked the first time was because I made him a promise that I would find you and bring you home. Well, I did that. Now you have to keep your end of things and go to him. At least talk things out with him. Don't go without seeing him again."

"Man, what the fuck do you care about it?" Daryl said, turning on Jesus, and glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

"Because I'm always on the run too, and I know that no matter how far you go or how long you're away, it's the ones you leave behind that have to deal with everything, and that's not fair to them," Jesus said with compassion.

Daryl stood where he was. His eyes lowered to the ground, and he thought about what Jesus was telling him. It might not be fair to run away, but it would give Aaron a shot at survival. Besides, who's to say Aaron would want him now. After all, Daryl had been a real prick towards him. He'd let his jealously get the better of him. And after what happened at the Sanctuary. Why the hell would Aaron ever want him now that he was broken? He was weak. He didn't fight back. He let those horrible things happen to him. That wasn't the man Aaron fell in love with. Why would he love him now, for the pitiful coward he'd become?

"I … I can't," Daryl said, and he went back to looking through the box. Just as he reached in, like a sign that it was time to go, his hand fell upon the perfect weapon, a thick seven inch fixed blade combat knife with a leather handle. He pulled it out of the box and held it in his hand. It felt heavy and comfortable in his palm. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and it was a perfect fit. He turned to Jesus and noticed the pleading look thrown at him from across the room. Daryl looked away quickly. "It's for the best." Daryl walked toward Jesus, who was blocking the doorway. Daryl pushed past him, but stopped when they were shoulder to shoulder. "Tell him … Tell him I'm sorry," Daryl whispered, and he left the smithy in a hurry. Jesus stayed where he was, disappointed that he couldn't convince Daryl not to go.

There had to be another way out of Hilltop besides the front gate. Every place had a loose board or a hole under the fence. He'd walk along the perimeter, looking for a vulnerable spot to make his escape. Daryl just wanted to leave. He didn't want to see Maggie or Sasha either. They would only try to convince him to stay like Jesus had. They would use Aaron to try and sway him. He couldn't hear it anymore.

As he walked past the stable where they kept a couple horses, Daryl snuck inside and had a quick look around. There was an empty backpack hanging on a nail next to one of the stalls. He grabbed it since he would need something to put scavenged items in. Their crops were down a little further. He would help himself to a few fruits and vegetables, something to get him on his way. Then he would head around to the back of the house and look for a place to get out.

After procuring some food, he squeezed past a shed of some sort. Behind the shed were a line of rain barrels, some full, some half empty. He was about to keep walking and stumbled over a pile of dirt. Daryl instantly stopped at stared at them. There were two, and one had a couple green balloons floating next to it. Both had a bouquet of wilted wild flowers laying on top. These weren't just piles of dirt. These were graves, fresh graves. This was where they buried Glenn and Abraham.

The graves were unmarked except for the flowers and balloons. There were no head stones or crosses made of wood. No names were attached to them, but Daryl knew whose they were. He hadn't thought to ask Maggie or Sasha about his deceased friends. Perhaps he still felt too much guilt over their passing. He should have known that if Maggie and Sasha were here, so were their loved ones. Daryl stopped and stood between the graves. He looked down at each one and hung his head. Tears welled up, but he refused to let them fall. What's done was done. They were gone. Life moved on without them. Life would move on without Daryl around too. Still, he wanted to pay his respects.

Daryl knelt on one knee between the graves. He bowed his head and said a silent prayer that they were in a better place now. "Abraham," he said to the grave on the left. "You were one tough motherdick." He laughed softly to himself. To his right, he slowly glanced over and gave a deep sigh. "Glenn. Oh man, Glenn. What can I say? We were there from the beginning. You were just a young kid when we met. You'd do anything anyone told you to do, and we made you do some stupid shit. I watched you grow into a respectable man. You were one of the last truly good hearted people in this world. I know you would have been a great father, too. I know everyone keeps telling me not to take the blame for what happened to you, but deep down, I can't help but feel the guilt. If only I hadn't reacted the way I did. I didn't know. I didn't know Negan would . . . I was just trying to protect Rosita. I didn't think about the consequences for my actions. If I didn't jump up and punch Negan, maybe … maybe you'd … aw shit. I don't know what else to say. I wish it had been me instead of you, and I'll regret this for the rest of my life." He laid his hand on the grave and bowed his head.

After a few moments of silent reflection, Daryl stood and rounded his shoulders. It was time to go, time to leave it all behind. He would miss everyone, but he thought this was for the best. Only way to keep everyone safe was to disappear. Hopefully they would all understand. Hopefully, Aaron wouldn't hate him. If only he could have said goodbye. Aaron was the most important person in his life, but if Daryl's departure meant his safety, that's what he needed to do. Maybe someday they'd meet again, but for now this was what needed to happen.

Daryl took a few steps away from the graves, and started towards the wall to look for a way out, when he heard someone shouting.

"Sasha. Jesus. Get out here. Now." It was Maggie.

"Shit," Daryl said to himself. Was it the Saviors? Were they already here looking for him? He couldn't leave now. They might need him to fight. If it was the Saviors, they'd found him, and there was no use running. It was better to stand his ground, help Maggie and the rest fight, and protect Hilltop. One thing was for sure. Daryl wasn't going back to the Sanctuary. He would rather die than give up. The problem was weapons. The enemy had all the guns. All Daryl had was a knife. It wouldn't be a fair fight, but he didn't care. They would just have to kill him. At least he wouldn't be a burden on anyone any more. He gathered his thoughts, and prepared for battle.

"Open the gate," Maggie called out.

"What the hell is she doing?" Daryl asked himself. If it was Saviors, why was she letting them in, and why wasn't she hiding? Maggie couldn't afford to be found out either. He took off at a run, past the graves, past the rain barrels and hedges, around the stables until he was at the corner of the house. He ran out into the yard and stopped as soon as he saw them. Not Saviors. Not an attack.

"Rick?" Daryl questioned when he saw who Maggie was hugging.

* * *

Aaron had told Rick and the others to go ahead and start heading for Hilltop while he took the car into the woods to hide it. They weren't that far ahead of him. He would catch up. All he could think about was how they were going to convince Gregory to help them against the Saviors. It wasn't going to be easy. It might not happen at all. What would they do if Gregory absolutely wouldn't help? They couldn't go after Negan on their own. They needed more people than what Alexandria had. Hilltop was their only hope.

He came to the dirt road that led to Hilltop, and he could see ahead that the gate was open. He'd just caught a glimpse of Rosita and Tara passing through, and he went into a jog to catch up. Aaron wondered if Paul was back yet. He was worried that something went wrong after talking to Carl and finding out that he hadn't seen Paul. Was he caught and being held captive? Did he make it in, but he couldn't find Daryl? If he didn't see Daryl, what did that mean? Was he too late? After Negan caught Carl, maybe Daryl took the punishment. If that was the case, was Daryl … was he . . . Aaron couldn't think about that. He still held out hope that he would see Daryl again. If he was just … gone … he didn't know how he would deal with it. Aaron wasn't prepared to lose him, not yet, not ever.

He made it to the open gate. Everyone was already inside. They were gathered in a group. Rosita and Tara, Carl and Michonne were standing together. Maggie was standing to one side, smiling. Sasha mirrored her on the opposite side. Everyone's attention was on the center of the group. Aaron's eyes swept the yard, and he saw that Paul stood off to the side. Thank God he was alright. As Aaron spotted him, Paul's eyes caught his. He smiled and nodded. Aaron smiled back. Then Paul tilted his head to the side, gesturing towards someone. Aaron's sight switched to the group again. They were looking at Aaron now, all of them smiling. They parted so Aaron could see why they were so elated. He saw Rick, whose back was to him. He was … hugging someone. Aaron's breath hitched. Rick glanced backwards and stepped to the side. The group parted, and there he was, standing there, whole, tall, handsome, but exhausted and relieved at the same time.

"Daryl?" Aaron said, his voice already wavering with emotion. He could see Daryl's lip quivering as he tried to keep it together, but it was too much to try and remain calm. Aaron couldn't help the tears that threatened his eyes. He didn't care if he started crying like a toddler. This was the moment he had been hoping and praying for. "Daryl," he said again, but stronger. He started walking toward him, and Daryl did the same. They didn't run, but their steps hurried the closer they got to each other until they were standing face to face. Now Aaron could see the old bruises and the scabbed over cuts on his face. He looked as though he'd been put through a hellish trial, even though he looked better than he had when Aaron saw him in the forest, bleeding from the shoulder and hunched over as he knelt on the ground.

"Aaron," Daryl said, and tears fell.

"Thank God," Aaron said.

Neither man could contain themselves another moment. They grabbed each other, arms wrapping around one another. They cried into each other's shoulders, and held on tighter than a vice.

"It's really you," Aaron said when he could finally find his voice. "I thought about you day and night. I was so scared. I didn't know what happened to you or where they took you. I was so worried that they … that I might never–"

"I'm here," Daryl whispered. "I got away. I … I don't know how, but I did."

They didn't want to, but with everyone watching, Daryl and Aaron separated. They couldn't take their eyes from each other though. The other's surrounded them and watched the reunion play out. It was a sobering and happy moment amongst all the pain of the past couple weeks. Suddenly, everything was right with the world again, if only in that brief moment.

Daryl brought his hand up and lightly touched the side of Aaron's face. "What happened to you?" Aaron still showed signs of his beating after he and Rick got back from scavenging the houseboat. "Did they do this to you?"

Aaron nodded because he didn't want to add to the pain Daryl had already been put through. "I'm okay though," he said.

"I was scared for you too. Negan … he … he made threats. I was afraid he would go to Alexandria and … and single you out."

"Negan didn't do this. His men did, but everything's fine." Aaron wouldn't mention Negan's threats, not now at least.

Daryl seemed satisfied, and he shifted on his feet as he looked down. "I must look like trash," he mentioned.

Aaron shook his head. "I've never seen a better sight." He knew Daryl was keeping himself in check with everyone watching him. Showing affection in public was never something Daryl like to do. He was very private, and only opened up when he was alone with Aaron. However, Aaron couldn't wait that long. To hug Daryl wasn't enough right now. He glanced around at the people surrounding them, and then he smiled at Daryl. "If you'll excuse us, I'm going to kiss my boyfriend now," he announced. His hand went to the back of Daryl's neck and he pulled him in. Just before their lips touched, Aaron whispered. "God, I missed you so much." Then he captured Daryl's lips. Daryl didn't resist. He kissed Aaron back, his arms surrounding Aaron again. The kiss deepened, and their grip on each other tightened. When they paused to catch their breath, Aaron said, "I love you Daryl. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Daryl whispered so quietly that only Aaron could hear.

After a while, Rick cleared his throat. Daryl pulled away first, and laughed nervously. Aaron couldn't help but smile. Daryl was back, he thought.

"I hate to break this up, but we've got business to attend to," Rick said.

"Give them a break, Rick," Michonne complained with a wide grin that made her eyes smile too.

"No, it's okay," Daryl agreed, but he was looking at Aaron to agree with him.

"Yeah, we can catch up later." Aaron smiled at Daryl once more before tearing his eyes away.

Maggie moved toward Rick with something in her belt. She reached behind her and pulled out Rick's gun. "I think you'll be wanting this back."

"Where'd you get it?" Rick asked, caressing the gun like an old lover.

"Daryl brought it with him, but with all the excitement, he left it in my trailer," she said, covering for him. The truth was, when Daryl met with Maggie and Sasha after he first arrived at Hilltop, he'd already made his mind up to leave, and he conveniently placed Rick's gun on the table so that Maggie could give it to Rick when she saw him.

Rick turned to Daryl and smiled. Daryl looked down sheepishly. "I came across it before I got away, and snatched it on my way out." He didn't want to tell him anymore details of how he got the gun. Those thoughts were too fresh in his mind.

While Rick thanked Daryl and had a private talk with him, Aaron took the opportunity to go to Paul. Paul was standing away from the group like an outsider. As far as Aaron was concerned, Paul was a part of them now. He'd proven time and time again that he wanted the same things that Alexandria wanted.

Aaron smiled when he approached Paul and threw his arms out to the side. "I don't know how I can ever repay you for what you've done. You made a promise, and you kept it. Thank you, Paul. Thank you for bringing Daryl back." Aaron was so overjoyed, he pulled Paul to him and hugged him. Paul hugged him back.

"I'm glad it worked out. You'll both be alright now. I know you will," Paul whispered in Aaron's ear.

* * *

When Daryl was done talking to Rick, he looked back to see where Aaron went, and found him hugging Jesus. It seemed their friendship blossomed some while he was gone. Daryl should have been glad for it. After all, Jesus got Daryl out of there and reunited with Aaron. So why did his heart weep slightly at the sight of them hugging? Perhaps it was because Jesus was the reason they had such a huge fight right before all hell broke loose. Daryl and Aaron still needed to talk about that. He had made some pretty shitty accusations, things he knew weren't true, but he'd been angry and jealous of the friendship developing. He still wasn't so sure he was alright with it. There was still a part of Daryl that thought Jesus held some kind of admiration for Aaron. He was glad Jesus came looking for him and helped him escape, but there was a wicked thought in the back of his mind that told him Jesus did it for Aaron. On the other hand, after talking to Jesus, Daryl learned that he'd kept an eye on Aaron. He had talked Aaron out of going to find Daryl by himself, and Daryl was thankful for that. Jesus had been a good friend after all. So there shouldn't be any reason to be jealous … but he was.

"You were going to leave, weren't you?" Maggie whispered to him. Daryl had been so caught up in the moment, he hadn't heard her approach. "That's why you left the gun."

"I'm putting everyone in danger by being here, by being around any of you," Daryl said softly.

"You know we won't let that happen," Maggie said.

"You haven't seen them. I have. There's hundreds of Saviors, and they're all scared of Negan. If he tells them to jump, they don't even ask how high. They just jump."

"Are you still going to leave? Even now that you're with Aaron again?" Maggie asked with an accusatory tone.

"I … I don't know," Daryl said, unsure of his plan. He hadn't known he was going to see Aaron again, and that changed things.

"You know what he'll do if you go missing. He'll search high and low to find you. Might even get himself in trouble. Jesus stopped him before. He might not be able to do it again." Maggie made a lot of sense. She knew Aaron as well as Daryl did.

"I'm not going anywhere right now," Daryl assured her. "First, let's see how things play out with Gregory."

Maggie sighed and looked towards the house. "Yeah, I'm not so sure how that's going to go."

Daryl glanced at Aaron and Jesus again. Jesus was patting Aaron on the shoulder and they were both smiling at each other. "Well, we'll see," he responded to Maggie.

* * *

"I'll do everything I can to convince Gregory to join Alexandria," Paul told Aaron. "But you saw the struggle it took just to get him to let Maggie stay. I had a little leverage there. I don't have it now. It's totally Gregory's call."

"All we can do is try," Aaron said.

Paul smiled and patted his shoulder. "Absolutely. Just know that I'm with you guys."

"All right," Rick announced. "Let's go meet the man." As he said it, he rolled his eyes, knowing it was going to be an uphill battle.

Everyone marched to the great house. Rick, Carl, Michonne, Daryl, Aaron, Rosita and Tara, Maggie and Sasha entered the foyer. Paul went to Gregory's office and came out a moment later. He gave everyone a nod to let them know it was all right to enter. The group filed into the office, finding Gregory sitting behind his desk. He had an arrogant gleam in his eye. Rick was already posturing. Maggie knew it was up to her to do the talking because Rick didn't have much respect for the Hilltop leader. The conversation started, and Aaron stood to the back next to Daryl.

It felt good just to stand next to him again, Aaron thought. He wished they could find a way to slip away and have a private moment alone, just to revel in the feel of being together again. They had their reunion in front of a crowd, and he knew Daryl was holding back. Even so, there was something a little off about Daryl, which he was sure had everything to do with his time spent locked up by the Saviors. Aaron wondered what happened to him during that time. He wanted Daryl to open up to him, tell him everything, get his aggressions and fears out in the open. He wanted Daryl to share with him because he wanted to be there to help in the healing. It's what they did for each other, and Aaron knew Daryl needed it now more than ever. Unfortunately, there wasn't time. Negan would find out soon, if he didn't already know that Daryl was gone. The Saviors were going to be looking for him. Aaron wouldn't let them take Daryl away again. They'd have to kill him before he would allow that.

With everyone's attention on Maggie and Gregory, Aaron took the opportunity to reach for Daryl's hand. He slipped his fingers through Daryl's and was rewarded by Daryl's positive response. Daryl allowed it and squeezed Aaron's hand. They glanced at each other, speaking with their eyes. Aaron's were full of admiration and thankfulness for having Daryl back. Daryl's eyes showed something similar, but it was more guarded. Aaron wasn't sure if it was because they were surrounded by people or if it was because of something that happened at the Sanctuary. This was why he needed to be alone with Daryl, and find out his story. Aaron was a little disappointed when Daryl released his grip and folded his arms across his chest, but he knew there were more pressing matters at hand right now.

Just as they suspected, Gregory was being reluctant to Rick's plan to join forces. He argued that he didn't owe Alexandria anything, especially since their original deal to take out the Saviors fell through. Of course, Gregory was using his mistake of thinking the only Saviors were the ones at the satellite station to his advantage, noting that the deal was to destroy ALL of the Saviors. Now that they knew there were more, the deal hadn't been completed. These were Gregory's thoughts on the matter. He told them he'd make no more deals with Alexandria, told them he would honor his promise to let Maggie stay, but he wouldn't take Daryl in. Maggie had tried to get Gregory to allow that. When Daryl heard his name he perked up.

"I'm not staying here with this coward," he blurted out. Gregory eyed him and gave a haughty smile.

"You see there?" Gregory said. "It's settled. Now, kindly leave the property before someone comes looking for your man here, and I won't tell him I've seen him. That's all I'm willing to do."

Paul tried to argue with him, but no one was going to make Gregory change his mind at this point. He had the upper hand. Alexandria was the desperate party looking for help. Hilltop was finished with them, or at least Gregory was.

"Fine, we're gone," Rick said, ending the meeting, and everyone left, pouring into the yard once more.

"It's alright, we'll think of something else," Aaron said to Daryl as they walked outside.

"I'm sorry guys," Paul said to them when he walked out with them. "I've already pushed him as far out of his comfort zone as I can."

"You've done a lot for us so far," Aaron said, leaving Daryl's side and going to Paul. "And we're thankful for it."

"Well, we better get home before Negan comes looking for Daryl," Rick said. "We'll give it some thought, see what to do next."

"You might not have to do that," Paul smiled. He looked at Aaron as he took something out of his back pocket. "I stole one of their hand radios when I went to find Daryl. It picks up everyone's radio. You'll know where they're going and how they're moving."

"Good thinking," Aaron told him. Paul handed the radio to Rick.

"I know things didn't work out here, but not all hope is lost," Paul said. "There's someone I want to introduce you to."

"Who?" Rick asked, reflecting the curiosity on everyone's faces.

"There's another community. They call themselves The Kingdom, and their leader is King Ezekiel," Paul said.

"King?" seemed to be the question that left everyone's lips.

"He's a bit eccentric, I'll admit, but he's smart, and he's always willing to listen. The Kingdom isn't like Hilltop. They have more people, and they train them. They don't engage in battle, and try to remain peaceful. Right now they have a cushy deal with the Saviors, and it's worked so far, so it might be difficult to get them to agree. I still think they are your best bet at finding an army. And Hilltop is not completely against your ideas either. Gregory doesn't speak for us all. There are those who will help. I'll talk to them, get them ready."

"Every little bit helps. Thank you," Rick said. "Let's go then. No time to waste."

The group said their goodbyes to Maggie and Sasha. They would have to stay at Hilltop. Besides, Maggie was already working her way into a leading role. More people were gravitating towards her, taking her advice and listening to her plans on how to make Hilltop safe.

Aaron hugged her, and when she put her hand on her belly, Aaron covered her hand. "You take care of yourself. Don't be a hero."

"I'll behave. I promise. Besides, Sasha will keep me in line," Maggie whispered into his ear before coming out of the hug.

"You better believe it," Sasha said, coming up behind them. "We'll be okay, Aaron. You take care too. Watch out for Daryl. You know how he can be, and he needs you now more than ever."

"I will," Aaron replied.

"You talking about me?" Daryl said when he joined them. He hugged Sasha and then Maggie.

"Listen to Rick. Listen to Aaron. You hear me?" Maggie scolded.

"Yeah," Daryl said with his head bowed. Aaron wondered what they had talked about.

Paul got a car and took half the group, which consisted of Rick, Carl and Michonne. Rosita and Tara went with Daryl and Aaron to the place where they hid the other car. Once there, Aaron hinted that the women stay by the road while he and Daryl went to get the car. It wasn't far, but this would allow the men a moment to themselves. Aaron led Daryl into the tree line.

"It's right over there," Aaron said. He knew they didn't have long. Paul would be waiting in the other car.

Once they were out of sight, Aaron stopped Daryl and stood in front of him. They gazed at each other for only a few seconds before they took each other in their arms. Aaron kissed him, wrapping his arm around Daryl's neck. Daryl relaxed and kissed him back, his hands gathering Aaron's shirt to pull him closer and hold him there. They were safe to be themselves, finally. Their bodies reacted as they held each other, coming alive with excitement. Now was not the time for a proper reunion, of course, but they could allow themselves the feel of their bodies against one another.

"I'm not going to lose you again," Aaron whispered to him.

"You won't," Daryl agreed, but it only sounded like words, not a promise.

"I mean it," Aaron said, releasing him and standing back to look into his face. "Whatever happens from here on out, I'm staying with you."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Daryl said somberly.

"I don't care what you think," Aaron demanded.

"Negan will be looking for me. I don't want you there if he finds me," Daryl said, his voice raised slightly.

"You think I don't know what's running through that tough brain of yours?" Aaron accused. "You were going to leave Hilltop, go off on your own somewhere, weren't you?"

"You talked to Maggie," Daryl said.

"I didn't have to. I could see it in your face. I watched you looking at the gate, planning your escape. And when Maggie said you left Rick's gun in her trailer, it confirmed my suspicions. Were you even going to come to me and let me know you were alright?"

"I was going to get a message to you somehow. Maybe get Jesus to hand deliver it since you two seemed to have become best friends while I've been gone." Daryl regretted it as soon as he said it. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I'm just worried for you. You weren't trapped by those maniacs for two weeks. I was. I know what their capable of."

"This is exactly why I want to stay with you. Together we can make sure they don't find you. Listen, it won't be forever. Rick's got a good plan. And now with this new community, who knows what possibilities are before us. We have to fight them eventually, and the Saviors aren't going to win."

Daryl cupped Aaron's face. "This is one of the things I've missed about you, your determination." Daryl pulled him in and kissed him again. "Alright, for now we stay together."

"There is no 'for now'. It's 'for always', and don't forget that," Aaron smiled at him. "Come on. We better get going."

* * *

They arrived at The Kingdom, which from where they were looked like a rundown parking lot. Everyone got out of the cars and stood around, watching and waiting.

"Nobody's here," Rick said.

"Oh, they're here," Jesus smiled. "Just give them a moment."

Daryl was nervous. He looked at Aaron, who shrugged his shoulders. He didn't like being out in the open like this. Jesus had said The Kingdom had an agreement with the Saviors. Who's to say they weren't here already, lying in wait for him. Daryl started to pace back and forth. "Man, what kind of bullshit is this?" he said impatiently.

"They're here," Jesus said as soon as Daryl complained.

Everyone was quiet and listened when suddenly they could hear horses approaching. A small group of men on horseback rode up from the same path Rick's group took. "They watch the road," Jesus informed them. "They saw us coming before we saw them. It's part of their security system. They have patrols that roam around The Kingdom as added enforcement before anyone or anything can get to close to the community."

The horseman who rode out front came in close. The other men surrounded the group of Alexandrians, keeping spears drawn on them. The leader saw Jesus and smiled. "Jesus, it's good to see you," he said sincerely.

"It's good to see you too, Richard," Jesus smiled back. It was obvious that they knew each other and had worked together in the past.

Daryl couldn't help but notice how the horsemen were dressed. They wore chest plates and padding which looked like a combination of S.W.A.T. team gear and football protection. They wore all black, and had long spears made of metal, which Daryl had seen at Hilltop. So this was how they were related. Hilltop was supplying The Kingdom with weapons made by their blacksmiths. That meant they had little to no firepower.

"Who have you brought?" Richard asked.

"These are friends. Rick is their leader. They come from a community called Alexandria, and they are looking for help," Jesus said.

"You know we don't mind taking in new people, but–" Richard started to say when he was interrupted by Rick.

"We're not here looking for shelter. We have a home. We're here to ask for your support in joining us to fight the Saviors," Rick said. He got right to the point.

"Why have you brought them here?" Richard asked, speaking to Jesus. "You know Ezekiel promotes peace."

"I know you have a deal with the Saviors. I know you're under their thumb, and so are we. But we want out, and the only way to do that is to stand up to them," Rick said. He ignored the fact that Richard refused to acknowledge him.

Richard got down from his horse and went to Rick, facing him off as he stood before him. Now Rick had his full attention. "I don't know you. Why should my people risk their lives for strangers?" Richard threatened.

Daryl didn't like the tension that had been building. He took a step forward, ready to come to Rick's aid, but Aaron put his hand on his arm to steady him. When Daryl looked at him, Aaron shook his head slowly back and forth, telling him not to interfere. Daryl steadied himself, but kept alert nonetheless.

"That sounds like Ezekiel talking," Jesus interrupted. "Please, Richard. These are good people who have been touched by the same evil as you. I also know your mind works differently than the king's. How long have you been trying to find someone who supports your views? I wouldn't have brought them here if I didn't think they were willing to make a difference."

Richard seemed to listen to Jesus, and Daryl relaxed his stance. Rick was remaining unusually calm this whole time, a much different version of himself than Daryl had seen in the past. He was much more humbled. After a long silence, Richard seemed to have come to a conclusion. "Alright. I trust Jesus, and if he says you come as friends, I believe him. You'll have to speak with King Ezekiel first. Come, I'll take you to him." Richard got back on his horse and led the others toward the Kingdom.

As it turned out, the parking lot they were in was on the outskirts of the actual community. On the way, Jesus explained to Rick and the rest how the trade deal worked with the Saviors. Apparently, King Ezekiel was something to be feared, even though he promoted peace. He worked a deal with the Saviors to supply certain goods as long as Negan's people never stepped foot inside the Kingdom. Trades were made where Richard met Rick's people, out and away from the eyes of the residents. They didn't know about the Saviors. Ezekiel had kept it a secret in order for his people to live in peace and without fear. Only a select few knew about the trade deal, and that's how it had been for a long while. For some reason, the Saviors never challenged Ezekiel. Daryl and Aaron wondered why the Kingdom hadn't tried to fight the Saviors since they kept their distance from them. There was tension there, and it seemed that neither side was sure who was the strongest. That was a lot to contemplate, Daryl thought. As far as Hilltop and Alexandria were concerned, Negan and his people could come and go as they pleased. They could show up at any time, and take what they pleased. Maybe their disadvantage was their low numbers. The Saviors definitely outnumbered them, and so it was easy for them to push their way in. Ezekiel had folded only to a degree, just enough to keep the Saviors in supplies, but they weren't allowed anywhere near the community.

They finally reached the main area of the Kingdom. It looked like it used to be a school, maybe a college. There was a huge courtyard surrounded by buildings. There were different areas of the courtyard. Some of it was dedicated to gardens, and Daryl could see all kinds of fruits, vegetables and herbs growing. It was a very healthy looking crop, too.

Another area was used to hang laundry, and there were women and children working hard to hang the day's loads. Next to this area were multiple picnic tables where they probably gathered for meals or entertainment. Speaking of entertainment, there was a group of young people off to themselves, practicing like a choir. They sounded amazing, and Daryl realized he hadn't heard people singing in a very long time.

Richard took them around a corner, and there was another area dedicated to weapons practice. Amazingly, they were young children using practice bows and arrows, handmade from wood, string and feathers. Further down was a practice area for the actual soldiers. They were engaged in exercise at the moment, moving in uniform like an army. There were several groups of soldiers, men and women alike. Some practiced swordplay or archery. Some threw spears at long range targets. Others were jogging around a track that was once used by the school for their track team, no doubt. Now it was a training ground for an army.

"So, if King Ezekiel promotes peace, why do all these people look like they're getting ready for a war?" Daryl asked Jesus, who was walking with him and Aaron.

"It's a precaution. Ezekiel won't fight unless it is absolutely necessary," Jesus answered.

"And having to answer to Negan is not a good enough reason?" Aaron asked.

"He's made peace with the Saviors. They have a certain day and time when they trade. Ezekiel sends his men there with the goods. The Saviors collect them and are on their way. It keeps the peace, for now anyways."

"Richard doesn't seem to think enough is being done," Daryl pointed out.

"Richard is wary. He says it's just a matter of time before the Saviors try to take more than they already agree on. And when that happens, the peace will be broken. Richard wished to attack first, when Negan's people aren't prepared. However, Ezekiel disagrees. His only concern is his people's safety."

"The only way they'll ever really be safe is when the Saviors are dismantled and the threat is eliminated," Aaron said.

"That's why I brought you all here. It's about time Ezekiel heard it from someone else besides Richard," Jesus said.

They made their way to a breezeway, and once they were there, they came to a set of double doors. "This is where you'll speak with Ezekiel," Richard told them.

Just then, the door opened and a familiar face emerged. Rick smiled when he saw his old acquaintance.

"Morgan?" Rick said, surprised.

"Rick," Morgan smiled back. The two men hugged and stepped back to look at each other.

"Have you been here this whole time?" Rick asked.

"Just about."

Rick looked around and asked. "Where's Carol? Is she here with you?"

Daryl's ear perked up at the mention of Carol's name. "Carol's here?" he said aloud to Aaron standing next to him. It had been a very long time since he'd seen her. Last thing he knew, she ran off in the middle of the night after leaving Tobin a note. She had said she couldn't fight anymore. She couldn't kill any more people, and if she stayed, she would have to do just that. He wished he could have been there for her, but Daryl was off being a jealous asshole, reckless and stupid. Aaron had warned him that she had changed right before her disappearance. He asked Daryl to talk to her, find out what was wrong, because that's what Carol had always done for Daryl. He never got around to it. Carol disappeared, and Daryl ended up in a cell at the Sanctuary.

"I found her," Morgan said to answer Rick's question. "She'd been injured by one of the Saviors she'd come across. He survived her initial attack and followed her. When I found her, she'd been shot, and he was about to finish the job." Morgan paused and looked into Rick's face. "I had to shoot him to protect Carol. I didn't want to, but he left me no choice," Morgan confessed. "Not long after, some men on horseback approached. They said they had a community who could help her, and they brought us here. They took care of her injuries, and she was on the mend when she just … disappeared again. She told me she just wanted to be left alone. I've tried to get through to her but–"

"So you just let her go?" Daryl said with anger.

"Hey, he tried," Aaron said to calm him. "You know Carol better than anybody. She can take care of herself."

"She shouldn't be out there alone," Daryl said again. He thought about his choice to want to leave and be alone, but it wasn't because he couldn't handle the world anymore. It was to keep people from getting hurt while he was being hunted after escaping the Sanctuary.

"She took supplies and weapons. I'm sure she's fine, wherever she is," Morgan said.

"King Ezekiel will see you now," said a man who came from inside the double doors. He was dressed like Richard and his men, a young man with shoulder length light brown hair, fit, trained, ready to enter a battle that his king wouldn't initiate.

Rick led the way, following the young man into what looked like an auditorium. They walked down an aisle between the theater seats until they were in front of a stage. There was a throne and a black man with long dreadlocks sitting in it. He had one booted foot propped up on the oversized seat, and next to him, sitting beside the throne was a . . .

"That's a tiger," Daryl whispered to Aaron. He glanced sideways to find Aaron staring, jaw agape.

Aaron nodded. "Yep. That's a tiger alright."

"What the fu–" Daryl mumbled.

"Welcome friends. I am King Ezekiel, and this is the Kingdom," the king said, his voice strong and loud. He talked like an actual king, like one from medieval days long ago.

"Is he for real?" Daryl questioned. He looked around to see if anyone else was buying into this act, but everyone's attention was focused on the rather large wild beast who was only held on the stage by a rope which Ezekiel held loosely in his hand.

"No wonder the Saviors don't come inside," Aaron said.

Rick was the only one who responded, and he went along with the act. "King Ezekiel. I am Rick … of Alexandria … and I come to ask for your help."

"I've seen everything now," Daryl said.

It was time to talk business. Rick took over and talked to Ezekiel, told him their story, told him about Alexandria and the Saviors at the satellite station. He told him about being ambushed in the woods, and losing two very prominent members of their group. He mentioned Daryl's kidnapping, coming clean when he said Daryl had escaped and was probably being hunted as they spoke. He talked about Gregory and his stubbornness not to help them, and that Jesus was responsible for bringing them to the Kingdom. He mentioned, also, how both communities suffered from Negan's persistence and his ridiculous rules. Then he asked King Ezekiel to help Alexandria form an army to go up against the Saviors because that was the only true way they were going to live in peace.

King Ezekiel listened to each and every word that Rick had to say. When he was finished, Ezekiel asked Morgan for his opinion. "What say you, Morgan?"

Morgan considered the question, watching Rick in the process. In the past they had a falling out over their different concepts. Morgan didn't want to fight or kill anyone anymore, and Rick would kill anyone who threatened his family or his community. Finally, Morgan spoke. "I have to disagree," he answered. "People will die, a lot of people, and not just the Saviors. If there was a way we could talk to them, or maybe keep Negan imprisoned."

The people of Alexandria let out an audible groan. Disappointment was clear on each of their faces. This was always Morgan's answer, even now when they faced an enemy of so many people and communities.

"Thank you Morgan," Ezekiel said. "Well," he said turning back to Rick. "It seems I have some careful consideration to make. I need time to weigh all my options. I shall give my ruling in the morning."

"I'm afraid we don't have time to–" Rick said before being interrupted.

"In the morning," Ezekiel said firmly. "Please, feel free to go anywhere you like. Rooms will be available to you. Make yourself at home, and we'll speak tomorrow." With that, Ezekiel stood from his throne and exited the stage, taking his tiger with him.

"That's it?" Daryl complained. "This guy is just acting. He's playing pretend while there are people out there dying. Just look at this place. Castles painted on the walls, fake trees, a damn throne. It looks like he's ready for a school play. I say fuck him, and we get out of here."

"No, we need his help," Rick countered. "If he wants to wait until morning to give us an answer, then that's what we'll do. In the meantime, keep your eyes and ears open. Let's check this place out, talk to some of its people, and find out how things work around here. We need to get a feel for the place." Everyone agreed, but Daryl remained skeptical. The only good thing to come out of this was that he'd have a place to lay his head tonight, and Aaron was with him to share it.


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47 Restless**

The room Daryl and Aaron were given was cozy. It was small, just a full size bed and a table with an oil lamp. The fact that they were given a room together made it clear that Paul suggested it. He knew they were a couple. No one else at the Kingdom would have known that. Aaron made a mental note to thank him next time he saw him.

Daryl sat at the foot of the bed, hung his head and gave an audible sigh. Aaron walked up to him and pulled Daryl's head to his stomach, cradling him. "It's been a long day," he said.

"Been a long life," Daryl responded as he wrapped his arms around Aaron's waist.

Aaron's fingers found their way into Daryl's long black hair, pushing it from his face. "It's going to be a good life soon. Once Negan is out of the way, we can–"

"We can't know that for sure," Daryl interrupted. "Morgan was right. We're going to war. People are going to die. Our people will die, not just Saviors."

"It's part of the sacrifice that must be made in order to make a better future," Aaron said.

"We've been pushing for that ever since the beginning. It seems that every time we take a step forward, we're pushed back three."

"Then we'll make sure that the one step reaches far enough so that when we're pushed back it won't be as much," Aaron said, smiling at the feel of Daryl's hair. It had been a long time since they'd spent a quiet moment alone like this.

After a few moments, Daryl looked up into Aaron's eyes, and just stared at him for a while. The connection made Aaron's heart race and he wouldn't look away.

"I missed you," Daryl whispered. Every part of his soul showed in his eyes as he opened up to Aaron.

"I missed you too," Aaron said.

"And I'm sorry," Daryl continued. "I'm sorry for all those things I said to you. I wasn't thinking, I was so full of rage. I know you'd never do anything to hurt me … to hurt us."

"It was my fault too," Aaron admitted. "You left town. We made a deal and I broke it when I went to Hilltop. I wasn't there for you when you needed me most. I won't do that again, not on purpose, anyway."

Daryl inched his finger at him. "Come here," he said in a low and sultry way.

Aaron sat on the bed next to Daryl. They came together, lips and tongues, arms surrounding each other, hands grasping to hold one another close.

There was a knock at the door, and Daryl groaned. "What do they want now?"

"Come in," Aaron called. Daryl tried to push away from him, not comfortable with someone finding them in a compromising position, even if they were only kissing. Aaron wouldn't let him though. "If you want them to leave quickly, don't move." They were still wrapped up in each other's arms.

The door opened and a young man dressed like one of the Kingdom soldiers came in. As soon as he saw Daryl and Aaron locked in an embrace, he glanced to anywhere else in the room besides on the couple. "I-I'm sorry to … interrupt. Uh … um … Ezek-King Ezekiel asked me to check on everyone and see if there was anything you needed." As he spoke, he was staring at the window.

"I don't know," Aaron said teasingly. "Daryl, is there anything you want?"

"How about some privacy," Daryl grumbled, and the young man's face flushed pink.

"Don't embarrass him," Aaron said. "He's just doing his duty." Aaron broke away from Daryl and addressed him. "What's your name?"

"Oh, um, it's Benjamin." He somehow managed to look at Aaron and Daryl, and seemed relieved that they weren't connected any longer.

"Nice to meet you Benjamin. I'm Aaron, and this is my boyfriend, Daryl."

Benjamin smiled and nodded. He took a step forward and offered his hand. Aaron shook with him, but when the man made Daryl the same offer, Daryl just looked at his hand and grunted. Benjamin awkwardly pulled his hand away. "I'm s-sorry I interrupted. I uh, I didn't know you were … together."

"It's okay," Aaron said kindly.

"You got anything to eat around here?" Daryl blurted.

"Oh … yes … well, there's always something available in the mess hall, usually fruit or vegetables. Three meals are prepared daily. Dinner isn't for another hour. I can bring you something to munch on until then," Benjamin offered.

"You don't have to," Aaron said. "We can go when we're–"

"Bring us some fruit," Daryl interrupted.

Aaron looked to Daryl, furrowing his brow. "Daryl," he started to complain.

"He's just doing his job," Daryl told him. Then he looked back at Benjamin. "And if there's anything besides fruit, bring that too." He could feel Aaron's judgmental eyes on him. "What? You never heard of room service before?"

Aaron huffed a laugh. "Don't go to too much trouble," Aaron said to Benjamin.

"No trouble at all. Be right back," the young man said before leaving and closing the door behind him.

"What was that about," Aaron asked when they were alone.

"I'm hungry and the kid was offering. You heard him. King Ezekiel sent him. Don't want the kid out of a job do you?"

"You're acting very peculiar, Mr. Dixon," Aaron accused with suspicion. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were stalling or something."

"I'm hungry. Can't a man get some food first?" Daryl said lightly.

"Fine then. I'm going to check on the others while we wait for room service," Aaron said, and he kissed Daryl once more before standing from the bed. "We'll pick up where we left off later." He left the room and went down the hall.

* * *

As a matter of fact, Daryl was stalling. Kissing Aaron was like a breath of fresh air, but he knew what it would lead to, and he wasn't sure he was ready yet. All the horrible things that happened to him in the past couple weeks were still too fresh in his mind. He couldn't talk to Aaron about it yet. He didn't know if he could ever talk to him about it. How could he ever tell Aaron what happened … that he'd let another man take him … that he hadn't fought hard enough to keep it from happening. He almost seemed to forget the reason why he couldn't keep that bastard, Brady, from raping him. Even though he'd just been beaten within an inch of his life, Daryl still felt like he should have been able to prevent the atrocity.

So, to keep from having to explain anything, Daryl told Benjamin to bring up some food. It worked. Aaron went to check on the others. The kid would come back with food. They would eat and talk. That would be good. He just wanted to spend some quality time with Aaron. Tonight, however, might be a problem. He knew without a doubt that Aaron would want him. It had been far too long since their last intimate moment together. Daryl thought about it. As a matter of fact, the last time they slept together, they'd just had that huge fight, and Daryl left the house. He was still out to seek revenge for Denise's death, his mind working like that of a madman. He knew he was going to leave, alone, and track Dwight until he found him and killed him. He was going to leave in the middle of the night, but something made him stay. A voice somewhere deep in his conscience told him not to go without seeing Aaron one last time. His anger was still very prominent, and he couldn't just go to Aaron and forgive him or offer forgiveness. Daryl was driven by rage, and confused by his sudden need to rule Aaron. He remembered thinking that if Aaron was going to start paling around with Jesus, he better know what it was he had at home. Jealousy mixed with hurt and anger, and he went to Aaron in the middle of the night. He didn't know what he would do until he got there. Maybe he was going to argue with him again, but that wasn't want happened. In order to prevent questions, Daryl wouldn't let Aaron speak. He crawled on top of him and fucked him. There was no foreplay, no loving words. It was just quick hot sex, a chance to relieve some of the tension without having to explain himself. At least that's what Daryl started out to do. Then, something happened while he rode Aaron into oblivion. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but it was the most amazing sex they'd ever had. Neither one held anything back. And because Daryl wouldn't let Aaron talk, their minds focused on their bodies and the sensations they caused. For that brief moment in time, Daryl forgot about his anger and jealousy, and concentrated on Aaron. In his mind, he suddenly thought that it could very well be the last time they would ever lay together, and he made love to Aaron as if it was their last. Every ounce of love he held for Aaron was poured into every look, every touch, every thrust. It was … wonderful. And then he left.

It might still be the last time they made love. Daryl wasn't ready. He still felt the wounds to his body. He was reminded of it every time he moved. The smell of that dark cell felt like it was infused into his skin. He had to get rid of it before he would touch Aaron intimately, or he feared he might contaminate his lover. Daryl knew it was ridiculous to think like this, but he couldn't help it. It was burned into his brain.

This room, he thought, wasn't much bigger than that cell at the Sanctuary. There was no bed, no window, but the vent on the ceiling was similar. He closed his eyes and heard that awful song that played over and over for countless days as Daryl sat naked in the dark. "I'm not there," Daryl repeated in his head, but the memories wouldn't go away.

The bedroom door opened and Aaron came in, but Daryl was still in the cell, and recalled Dwight coming inside to hand him a dogfood sandwich. But this wasn't Dwight. It was Aaron. It … was … Aaron.

"Everyone's good. Their relaxing as best as they can, but they all want to get back to Alexandria," Aaron told him. Then his brows drew together with concern. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Daryl lied. He was feeling claustrophobic in the room, but he tried to ignore it.

"You probably just need to eat. I'm sure you haven't had a proper meal since–"

"I'm going for a walk," Daryl interrupted. He jumped up from the bed and went to the door.

"But Benjamin said he was bringing food," Aaron reminded him. "At least wait until he comes back. You need to build your strength."

"I'll find something. I just … I need some fresh air," Daryl said. "I won't be long."

Aaron looked disappointed in him, but he smiled anyway. "All right then. I'll save you something in case the mess hall is empty."

Daryl gave a half smiled and a nod. Then he left the room and hurried down the hall until he found the door that led outside. He burst out into the yard, and stood there looking around. This wasn't the Sanctuary, he reminded himself. There were no walkers chained to a fence. And the people here were friendly. No one was going to send him away.

A woman was passing by. She was an older lady, probably in her early sixties, gray hair kept back in a ponytail. She had kind hazel eyes, and as she smiled at him, the crow's feet at the corners stood out more. She wore a pouch tied around her waist with gardening tools tucked inside. She took off her gloves, shoved them in one of the pockets and wiped her hands on her pants.

"Hello," she said to him. "I'm Isabelle. You must be one of the guests that arrived earlier today." She put her hand out to shake. Daryl looked at her hand a moment, and then took it.

"Daryl," he said tersely.

"Nice to meet you, Daryl. Pardon my appearance. I was just doing some gardening."

Daryl looked toward the direction she came from. He noticed how they used old tires and rusty filing cabinets as planters. He nodded in that direction. "That's a good idea."

Isabelle turned to see what he was referring to. "Oh, yes it is. Wish I had thought of it. It's easier to grow herbs like that, and it expands our growing space. There's a lot of concrete around here, and it's not ideal for crops, so we brought dirt in and built it up in areas." As she spoke, she noticed the old bruising on his face and gestured toward it. "Looks like someone got you pretty good."

"That's putting it lightly," Daryl said.

She moved a little closer to him and whispered. "Did … _they_ … do that to you?"

"They?" he questioned.

Isabelle looked around them and when she saw no one was close enough to hear she spoke again. "The Saviors."

As far as Daryl knew, the people of the Kingdom didn't know about Negan or the Saviors. Ezekiel had been very careful when he struck a deal with the Sanctuary. They made their trades outside of the community, and never stepped foot inside the Kingdom. Ezekiel wanted his people to feel safe, and took the burden of dealing with Negan upon himself, with the addition of a small crew of soldiers who went out to make the trade.

"You know about them?" Daryl asked.

"I wasn't supposed to know, but I'm very perceptive. I noticed that the amount of food we harvest doesn't match what is actually used to prepare meals. When you painstakingly grow twenty watermelons, and only ten show up in the kitchen, it tends to make you a little bit curious." Isabelle scowled and shook her head. "They tried to tell me that half of them had worms when they cut them open, but I know they didn't. I made sure to it that those were the best watermelons anyone had ever seen. The kids love them, you know. Do you like watermelon, Daron?"

"Uh, it's Daryl," he corrected her, feeling a little awkward doing so.

"Oh, I'm sorry. My mind is not as good as it used to be. I've been so forgetful lately." She looked off into the distance, clearly having lost her train of thought. "Where did you say you're from?"

"I didn't," Daryl said to make her feel better. "I'm from a place called Alexandria. We're a community like yours, but not as big."

"Do you grow watermelon too?" she asked.

Daryl thought it was kind of funny, her obsession with watermelon, but he went along with it. "No, we don't have any."

"Well now, you have to have that, especially if there are children where you come from. Before you leave, remind me and I'll give you some seeds," she said.

"I will," he told her.

She observed his face again. "Oh my, who did that to you?"

Daryl was confused. She had already asked him that, but then she did say her memory wasn't great. "I was captured by the Saviors," he said, hoping it would jog her memory.

Isabelle gasped. "You know about them? We're not supposed to know, but I figured it out."

"You told me about that. Missing watermelon," he said. "Who told you about them?"

"I went straight to King Ezekiel, and he told me. I'm not supposed to tell anyone else, but you look like you can keep a secret … uh … what did you say your name was?"

"It's Daryl," he said.

"Oh, that's right, Daryl from Alleghany."

"Close enough," Daryl agreed. She was at least making an effort.

"Hello, Mrs. Milford. How are you today?" It was Jesus.

"Hello, Paul. What a surprise seeing you here. I didn't know you were in town," Isabelle said. Her whole face lit up when she saw him.

"I brought some friends with me to meet King Ezekiel," Jesus told her.

She smiled and looked at Daryl. "Did you get to see his tiger?" she said excitedly.

"Yes, ma'am, I did," Daryl said.

"How are the crops doing?" Jesus asked her.

"Just wonderfully." She looked down at her attire. "I think I was just going out to do some weeding."

"Actually, you were–" Daryl started to say.

"We won't keep you, then. Good seeing you again, Mrs. Milford," Jesus interrupted him.

"Come see me before you leave," Isabelle told Jesus. "I've got some cucumbers for you to take home with you." She turned to Daryl. "Nice to meet you Daniel."

He decided not to correct her this time. "Nice meeting you, too." When she turned to go back to the gardens, Daryl noticed Jesus smirking and trying not to laugh. He drew his brows together. "So, she knows you like ' _cucumbers'_ , huh?" he taunted.

"I don't mean to laugh, but the look on your face."

"Yeah, well, it's a common mistake. She doesn't know me."

"She is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's disease. At least that's what the doctor here says. There's no way to run tests, but the signs are all there," Jesus informed him. "I know it's not a good thing, and it's a disease that just gets worse and worse, but it's not often I see someone aging and succumbing to normal medical conditions, and not dying because of roamers."

"So, do you come to the Kingdom often?" Daryl asked to change the subject.

"I make my rounds. We supply them with weapons, mainly spears or swords, and they give us fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs. I also keep my eyes and ears open to the concerns of some of the residents here. This is why I brought you. There are certain people in the Kingdom who think it's time to fight. They're worried about Negan and his men. Tensions have been on the rise, and they feel it is only a matter of time before they're attacked. Ezekiel just wants to keep the peace, and he thinks as long as the trade deals are honored, everything will remain as it is. I think you know better than that."

"Eventually, people get greedy. The Saviors won't always be this agreeable. Sooner or later, they're going to want more," Daryl said.

"Ezekiel knows this, but he's choosing to ignore it. Listen, I know you think he's an imposter, just some guy with a pretend kingdom. And yes, most of the time he's putting on a show, but he's a very smart man. You saw for yourself, all the people training. He's not doing it just for show. First of all, it makes his people feel empowered to know they will be prepared to fight if they have to. Ezekiel's downfall is that he won't be the one to initiate that fight."

"What he has here is a goldmine. People ready and prepared for war … he should be utilizing that. When we got to Alexandria, you know what they were doing? They were having barbeques and dinner parties. They didn't know shit about fighting. We had to teach them, and still, some aren't ready. The Kingdom is huge compared to what I've seen so far, and to know they've been training all this time makes them very valuable," Daryl said.

"So imagine what we can do between the three communities. The only hurdle is getting Ezekiel to agree. He's very protective of his people, and he won't put them in harm's way unless he absolutely has to," Jesus agreed.

"I'm afraid by the time it gets to that point, it might be too late. We have to strike first, just like Rick said. We have to catch them off guard or we'll never be able to defeat the Saviors."

"I'm glad you see things the way I see them," Jesus said. He smiled slyly. "I'd like to introduce you to someone. Actually, you've met him already, Richard, the man who let us in. He thinks like you and me. He wants to keep the Kingdom safe, but he knows that the way Ezekiel is handling it is only putting a bandage on a much larger problem. Ezekiel knows how Richard feels, but so far he hasn't taken his advice. Maybe if he sees that Richard isn't alone in how he sees the bigger picture, he'll reconsider working together, and in the morning, he just might rule in our favor."

"All right, I'll meet him," Daryl agreed.

"Great," Jesus smiled. "Come on, Daniel, we've got our work cut out for us."

Daryl huffed a laugh. Maybe Jesus wasn't such a prick after all. At least he had a sense of humor.

* * *

Jesus, Daryl and Richard met, and Richard invited them to his apartment. They talked about the Saviors, and the deals all three communities had with them. They talked about all the wrongs that had been done to them, and came to the conclusion that the Saviors were indeed becoming more aggressive. Richard invited Daryl to come with him so he could show him where the Sanctuary was. Richard had been making maps and observing from a distance, trying to find out how they operated. He was very excited about the possibilities that lay before them.

Daryl, however, couldn't leave. He couldn't take the chance of getting caught. "I don't need to see where they are," he told Richard. "I've been there already."

"You've been in their compound?" Richard asked enthusiastically.

"Not by my choice, but yeah." He didn't want to talk about it.

Jesus could see Daryl's discomfort and continued for him. "Negan took Daryl and held him prisoner."

"How'd you get away?" Richard inquired.

"I had help, including Jesus. Now I'm on the run. He's going to come looking for me. I probably shouldn't be here, but I've got no choice right now." Daryl had a choice, though. He could slip out unseen, and take off on his own, but he wasn't sure that was the right thing to do now that he was with Aaron again.

"Paul, you've been there too?" Richard said.

"Barely. I watched them from the outside for a while. By the time I found a way to slip inside, Daryl was already free. Someone on the inside helped him escape. I just kind of picked him up, and we left."

Daryl noticed how careful Jesus was when telling his part of the story. It was more than what he said. Jesus found Daryl crushing Joey's skull. Daryl remembered the shocked look Jesus gave him when he found him. At that point, Daryl was losing his sanity, and began questioning who he was.

"Then we're already ahead of the game," Richard said. "With your knowledge of the outer perimeter," he said to Jesus. "And your knowledge of the inside," he said to Daryl. "We can finally start laying out a plan. We could sneak in there and storm the place."

"We don't do anything without conferring with Rick," Daryl said.

"Rick seems like he knows what he's doing. Why don't we just go to him and tell him what we think we should do?" Richard was excited about the probability of finally having someone to work with, but he wasn't seeing the bigger picture.

"This has to be done right," Jesus said to him. "It needs to be well thought out, and everyone must be in their places. One mistake, one slip up, and the Saviors are on to us. We have to make a preemptive strike against them, or we won't stand a chance."

The wind went out of Richard's sails, but he was still on board with the idea. "Well, I'm just glad I've got help. No one has listened to me around here. I understand Ezekiel wanting to be careful. I get why he's done the things he's done. I don't disagree with it, but enough is enough. His way of thinking got us to where we are now, but the times are changing. He's not." Richard went to a cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. "You gentlemen care for a drink?"

"Thanks, but I don't–" Jesus started to say.

"I do," Daryl interrupted. It had been forever since he had a drink of anything.

Richard brought the bottle over and set the glasses on a table. Then he poured two glasses. He hesitated at the third, and looked at Jesus for his reaction. Jesus shook his head and turned down the drink. "Suit yourself," Richard said, handing a glass to Daryl.

As time went on, Daryl and Richard were feeling no pain while the bottle emptied by half. Jesus stuck around, but he didn't drink. He mostly watched and laughed along with the stories Richard and Daryl shared. Sometimes Jesus added his take on something. It was a good time, but it was getting late. Daryl realized that he'd missed dinner. No wonder he was so far into his cups. Drinking on an empty stomach was a bad idea.

"Shit, Aaron's going to kill me. I wasn't supposed to be gone this long," Daryl said, but deep down he was glad he stayed away as long as he did. It meant he wouldn't have to explain himself if Aaron wanted to . . . Daryl wasn't ready to have that conversation yet.

"Then we better get you back," Jesus said to him.

"Party pooper," Richard complained while slurring his words. Daryl laughed. God, he hadn't laughed in forever. Richard wrinkled his brow as something occurred to him. "Wait a minute. Why would Aaron give a shit where you were?"

Jesus smiled and looked down. He glanced up at Daryl through his long lashes, and Daryl held his hands out, gesturing for him to explain. "Go ahead," he said to Jesus.

He looked bashful as Jesus told Richard. "Daryl and Aaron are . . ." He didn't have to finish. Richard got the hint.

"No shit. Really? I never would have guessed. Hey, Jesus here is too," Richard said, as though it was new and exciting news to everyone.

"Yeah, they know, Richard," Jesus said. He stood and helped Daryl up. "We got to get going. See you in the morning."

"You do that," Richard said. He started to get up but fell back onto his chair. "You can let yourself out, right?"

Daryl laughed again. "You're fucking wasted, man."

"Hell yeah I am," Richard agreed. He pointed his finger at Daryl. "I've got something I want to tell you about, but not now. I'm too shit-faced to make any sense. But it's something I've been putting together in my head for a while. I think you're just the guy who can help me out with it. I'll run it by you sometime. You can tell me what you think."

"Cool, man. Sounds awesome." Daryl leaned on Jesus as he was led to the door.

"Goodnight, Richard," Jesus said. He closed the door behind him.

They walked down a short hall and out of a door that led to the courtyard. It was a beautiful night, a slight coolness on the breeze. The stars were out, not a cloud in the sky. And because there was no moon, they were very bright and plentiful.

"For a while, I thought I'd never see the night sky again," Daryl commented as they descended a set of short stairs to the walkway below.

"You're safe now, and we're going to do everything we can to keep you that way," Jesus reassured him.

They took a few more steps until they were next to a garden made up of filing cabinets. Daryl stopped and so did Jesus. "Why are you helping me?" Daryl asked him. "You risked your life for me when you showed up at the Sanctuary. You could have been caught and killed."

"I knew I could do it. I've done similar stunts before. Besides, you all were split up with Maggie and Sasha at Hilltop, and Negan is breathing down Rick's neck. There wasn't much anyone else could do," Jesus explained.

"You didn't do it for me. I know that because I've been a total dick to you since we met."

Jesus chuckled softly. "All right, I won't contest that statement. I don't blame you, though. You don't know me. And I did steal your shit."

"Which I won't forget," Daryl returned lightheartedly. He ran his hand through his hair as he thought about how to ask the next question. There was only one way. "Did you do it for Aaron?"

"I did it because he was determined to go find you by himself. I couldn't let him do that," Jesus said.

"Because you like him," Daryl said quietly, not able to make eye contact with him.

"Because he is my friend," Jesus retaliated.

"That's not what I meant," Daryl challenged.

Jesus sighed and shook his head. "Daryl, please don't–"

"I know you do," Daryl interrupted. "The first time you met at Rick's house, I saw how you looked at him. I know that look because that's how I felt when I met him."

Jesus was silent for a moment, considering how to answer. "Okay, you want the truth. Here it is. Yes, I was attracted to Aaron when I first met him. Yes, I flirted with him. That was my fault. I should have waited until I found out whether or not he was involved, but once I knew, I backed off. I'm not that kind of person. And quite frankly, you scared the hell out of me," Jesus finished up saying with a jest.

"I remember," Daryl smiled. He waited before he continued, picking a leaf from a basil plant. He broke the leaf in half and sniffed it. It smelled good. "Just for the record, I'm glad you're his friend. I'm glad you were there for him while I was gone. And I'm glad you stopped him from going to the Sanctuary. What I need from you now is to remain his friend, just in case something happens to me."

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Jesus countered. "This is just the whiskey talking."

"It might have something to do with it, but I've been thinking about this for a while. The booze is just making me brave enough to say it."

"Daryl," Jesus complained.

"No, hear me out. No one knows what the future holds, but if something happens to me, I'm asking you to be there for Aaron. I know he trusts you. He always has. We've had arguments over it before. If I don't make it through this war that we're gearing up for … Hell, if I don't make it through tomorrow, Aaron is going to need someone to get him through the grief. I want it to be you because I know you care about him as much as I do. And don't deny it."

Jesus remained silent. Daryl waited for him to say something, but he didn't. Finally, he clapped a hand to Daryl's shoulder. "I'm glad you trust me too," he said, and that was all. They had made the agreement.

* * *

Aaron was worried when Daryl didn't come back. Maybe he was just walking around. He'd been a bit standoffish since they came together again. Aaron thought he was changing that as they shared a kiss. They had a good talk and cleared the air between them. It felt like they were moving in the right direction, but maybe they were moving a little fast for Daryl's liking. It must have had something to do with Daryl's imprisonment. He'd yet to talk about it, not in full detail. Aaron didn't want to push him either. He knew from past experiences what happened when you pushed Daryl out of his comfort zone, and he'd been beaten one too many times recently.

Benjamin eventually arrived with a satchel containing fruit. "Sorry it took so long. I got sidetracked."

"No problem. Hey, did you happen to see Daryl anywhere?" Aaron asked.

"Oh, yeah. I saw him talking to Jesus," Benjamin told him as he handed the fruit to Aaron.

"Thanks," Aaron smiled politely.

"If there's anything else you need, just let me know. I'm always around somewhere. I'm not hard to find," Benjamin offered as he exited the door.

Aaron wasn't really hungry. He'd asked for fruit for Daryl, since he hadn't eaten much lately. He left the satchel on the table and sat at the foot of the bed, waiting for Daryl to come back, but he never did. By now, dinner was probably being served, he thought.

There was a soft knock at the door and Tara peaked inside. "Hey, we're going to the mess hall. Want to come with us?"

"Sure," Aaron said, joining Tara and all the others in the hall. He closed the door to his room and the group walked together. Rick was saying that he was concerned about getting back to Alexandria, and Michonne reminded him that they had the walkie talkie to listen in on the Savior's conversations. They needed to talk to Ezekiel in the morning and see if he would agree to help them or not.

As they walked through the courtyard toward the mess hall, Aaron glanced around the area, looking for Daryl, but there was no sign of him anywhere. He didn't see Jesus either, and that made him feel a little bit better. Hopefully wherever they were, they were there together. Jesus would keep an eye on Daryl. That much he knew.

The mess hall turned out to be a school cafeteria. Extra seating had been brought in to accommodate all of the residents. There were picnic tables placed about in the empty areas. People stood in line like students, with trays in their hands, waiting to get up to where the food was being served. It was a good system, and the people of the Kingdom looked happy. They weren't happy in the way Alexandria was when Deanna was in charge. That had been happiness that covered their denial for the outside world and its ruin. The people of the Kingdom knew what the world had become, but they were safe here and they knew they were being protected. That had been because of Ezekiel and his strange front. He wasn't crazy. He was smart, and his act was enough to satisfy the residents. Besides, how could you not trust a guy with a tiger as a pet?

Everyone seemed a little nervous about being here and roaming around in the Kingdom unescorted. Aaron took it upon himself to start. He picked up a brown tray from a table stacked with them, and got in line. Tara followed him, and then the rest.

"This brings back memories," Tara said. "I just hope they serve something better than the old school lunches from before."

"I think we're good, considering those processed meats and other perishables are long gone by now," Aaron said.

"You sure about that? I don't know, our school had some pretty crappy lunches that looked like they could get up and run away," Tara joked.

Aaron laughed. "I bet the walkers wouldn't even eat that."

Tara joined him in a laugh as they slowly moved forward in the line. Aaron kept checking the room to see if maybe Daryl was already here.

"Where's Daryl?" Tara asked.

"I'm not sure. He was feeling a little closed in and he went for a walk. I think he's with Jesus somewhere," Aaron answered. "I was looking to see if he was here."

"I'm sure he'll turn up," she assured him.

They finally got their meals and took their seats at one of the picnic tables. The food looked good. There was plenty of vegetables, and a modest serving of meat, pork from the look of it. It was very tasty too, but Aaron's appetite was subdued because of his concern for Daryl. It wasn't like him to go off for this long without Aaron knowing where he was. He kept in mind that Benjamin had seen him with Paul, and that helped keep his worry from getting out of control.

Dinner ended, and Rick and the group went to an area of the courtyard that was empty to discuss what would happen in the morning, whether Ezekiel would help them or not. The discussion temporarily took Aaron's mind off of Daryl. He wished Daryl was here, though, since some of the discussion was about him. Rick said right away that Daryl shouldn't come back to Alexandria because that would be the first place the Saviors would look for him. There was nowhere safe to hide him, and they knew the town would be ransacked. He couldn't hide at Hilltop. Gregory put his foot down and was already at the end of his rope with Maggie and Sasha staying behind. Aaron had a thought, but it wasn't something he could share with the rest. It might be possible for Daryl to hide at the cabin, if it was still there. It had been a very long time since they went, and right now they were very far from it. It was something to think about at least, something to suggest to Daryl, if he'd show back up. Where the hell was he?

It was late by now. Aaron laid in bed, on top of the sheets, still in his clothes. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to keep himself from starting a door to door search for Daryl. He had to trust that Daryl was somewhere. He hadn't seen Paul either, and hopefully that meant they were together. Paul wouldn't let Daryl run away without notifying Aaron. No, he thought, they were around here somewhere, but what in the hell were they up to?

Finally, after hours of wondering and worrying, the doorknob rattled and slowly opened. Paul and Daryl came in, side by side, Daryl's arm around Paul for support. Aaron smelled the alcohol before they were past the threshold. Worry turned to relief, which now turned to anger. "Where the hell have you been all day?"

"I told you he'd be pissed," Daryl grumbled to Paul.

"It's my fault," Paul said. "I introduced him to Richard, the man who met us at the perimeter. Richard is likeminded with the rest of you, and I thought by introducing him to Daryl, maybe he could help convince Ezekiel to join us, if he still had any doubts," Paul explained as he walked Daryl to the bed. "I wasn't planning on Richard to break out a bottle of whiskey."

"Just one bottle?" Aaron asked, his judging eyes falling on Daryl.

"It was good whiskey," Daryl answered, collapsing onto the bed.

"If it's any consolation, I remained the designated walking partner to make sure he got back safe and sound," Paul said.

Aaron patted Paul's shoulder and smiled. "Thanks, Paul."

"I'll see you all in the morning," he returned. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, no worries," Aaron answered as he watched Paul leave, closing the door.

Daryl was laying on the bed, legs apart and arms spread out to the side. Aaron sighed and looked at him. Daryl lifted his head and watched him with a glassy stare. "What's that face about?"

"This is my 'why didn't you tell me where you were' face. Should I show you my 'do you know what time it is' foot tapping?" Aaron berated.

"Why don't you come over here and give me your 'I don't care where you were, I'm just glad you're back' look. I think I like that one best," Daryl returned.

Aaron had his arms crossed and shook his head in disappointment, but he couldn't stay mad for long. "Drinking? Really?"

"It wasn't that much," Daryl countered.

"It wouldn't take much with your empty stomach. Maybe if you joined me for dinner first, you wouldn't be shitfaced right now." Aaron's complaint fell on deaf ears. Daryl's eyes were closed as though he'd gone to sleep. "Great," Aaron whispered to himself.

He couldn't let Daryl sleep in his clothes, so he went to him and started with his boots, unlacing them and sliding them off his feet. Next came his socks, which Aaron stuffed into the boots and set on the floor at the end of the bed, the same place Daryl put them at home in Alexandria. He undid Daryl's belt, button and fly, and pulled his pants down and off, letting them fall to the floor by the boots. Daryl hadn't moved the whole time. Aaron thought he must have passed out from the alcohol. Lastly, Aaron unbuttoned Daryl's shirt, and pushed the material to the sides. It wouldn't be as easy to get him out of his shirt. He stopped what he was doing, but not because he was trying to figure out how to get the shirt off. Rather, Aaron stared at Daryl's chest and stomach. He was thin, much thinner than Aaron had ever seen him. His stomach, which was always flat and slightly muscled, was caved in a bit, and the bottom edge of his ribs were noticeable. There were new wounds on his torso, one at his shoulder and one at his side. They were bandaged, and Aaron's finger traced around the edge of the tape that held the gauze on.

"What did they do to you?" Aaron whispered quietly. He guessed that the shoulder wound had been from a bullet. He remembered seeing Daryl's shoulder red with blood that night Negan stopped them in the woods. There had been a lot of blood, and Aaron had worried for him. Apparently, someone patched him up at the Sanctuary. At least they did that much for him.

He looked curiously at the wound on Daryl's side, and started to peel the tape away. He wanted to know what had been done to him. The bandage was half off, and he could see a stitched wound, about an inch long. A knife wound, Aaron guessed, thinking he'd been stabbed. As he was about to lift the bandage further to the side, Daryl's hand grabbed his wrist. It was quick like a feline's movements, and his grasp was hurting Aaron's wrist. Daryl's eyes opened, but he was staring at the ceiling.

"Don't," he said tersely.

"I'm sorry," Aaron replied. "I was just curious."

Daryl pulled on Aaron's arm, making him abandon the wounds and move up on the bed so that they were face to face. Daryl turned his head to the side and looked deep into Aaron's eyes. There was something animalistic that he hadn't seen in a very long time, not since they first admitted their feelings for each other. If Daryl had just seemed comatose due to his abundant alcohol intake, he now seemed primal and ready to strike. And that's what he did. Daryl's body twisted and rolled so that he was laying on top of Aaron. It reminded Aaron of their last night together, when Daryl came to him while he slept, and made love to him without saying a word to each other. Aaron's heart pulsed rapidly as he remembered how carnal, yet beautiful it had been, and he anticipated reliving the thrill again.

Daryl shucked the shirt from his shoulders before he covered Aaron completely and captured his mouth. Daryl kissed him hard and wantonly, then his mouth moved to Aaron's jawline and his neck. He moved down until his hands felt Aaron's belt, and made quick work of it. He undid the button and the fly, then slid his hand inside, and took up Aaron's half hardened cock. Aaron gasped and let out a surprised yelp. The suddenness of Daryl's movements made him surrender completely. It had been much too long since they had coupled. He wouldn't last long. Daryl must have known this because he halted his ministrations and left Aaron needing more. He didn't have to wait long. Daryl pulled Aaron's pants off, and then his underwear, as he slipped out of his own underwear to join Aaron in his nakedness. Daryl came back up and laid on top of Aaron. Their cocks lined up next to each other, but Aaron noticed that Daryl's was still pliant. Probably the booze, Aaron thought. It tended to dampen Daryl's excitement, and took him a little longer to get hard. Aaron reached down and took Daryl in his hand to help him along. He could feel the silky member stiffen a bit, but it wasn't yet at full standing. He pumped Daryl in his hand and sucked on the flesh of Daryl's neck. Daryl was breathing rapidly, trying too hard to will his body to cooperate. Aaron had an idea.

He rolled them both so that they were on their side, then he moved over to let Daryl roll onto his stomach. Daryl seemed resistant, so Aaron whispered softly in his ear. "Let me take you this time. Let me come inside you and–"

"No!" Daryl yelled, and he turned violent. He pushed himself up from the bed and his hand shot out to the side, hitting Aaron in the chest and making him tumble from the bed. Daryl scrambled off the bed, and frantically searched for his clothes.

"Daryl, wait!" Aaron called out to him. He didn't know what happened that made Daryl use such strong force against him.

Daryl stood and pulled his underwear on. Just like that, it was over, and Aaron was left confused with a flood of questions on the tip of his tongue. Daryl didn't say anything. He fumbled with his pants, stumbling as he tried to get his second leg in. He was searching for his shirt, and Aaron realized he was laying on it. He pulled it out from beneath his naked form and stretched his arm out, offering it to Daryl.

Daryl's eyes wouldn't meet his as he snatched the shirt from his hand.

"I'm sorry," Aaron finally said. "I don't know what I did. I don't know what triggered you, but if you'd just tell me–"

"Not now. I … I don't know … The room … It feels … too small. I gotta get out of here." As Daryl spoke, he put his shirt on, not buttoning it, and went to the door. "I'm sorry, Aaron," was the last thing he said before he left.

Aaron was in shock. Nothing like this had happened before, not since they admitted their feelings for each other. He got off the floor and yanked the sheet from the bed, wrapping it around his body. Then he ran to the door and out into the hall. Daryl was just about to round the corner. "Daryl, please don't go. Talk to me. Please," he called, but Daryl didn't even look back. He disappeared around the corner, and then out of the door that led to the yard. Aaron stood there and listened to the door close.

The commotion must have disturbed Tara from her sleep because she opened her door and looked out with sleepy eyes. Aaron was embarrassed as he stood there in only a sheet. She smiled awkwardly, and with her usual sense of humor said, "Toga party?" She knew right away that it was inappropriate and completely the wrong time for a joke. "Sorry," she said immediately afterward.

Aaron slinked back into his room, and was left alone to worry and wonder what happened. Something was wrong with Daryl, and he knew it had to do with his imprisonment at the Sanctuary. He needed to get to the bottom of it, but getting Daryl to open up was never an easy task. However, this was serious, and he'd need to think of a way to go about it that wouldn't make Daryl feel threatened.

"What the hell did they do to you?" Aaron wondered aloud as he sat at the foot of the bed, wrapped in the sheet.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48 Left Behind**

Daryl walked around the courtyard. It was empty at this time of night. He was glad for it. Still feeling the effects of the whiskey, he didn't feel like dealing with anyone wanting to know why he was here or if he was all right. He was far from all right. He was confused, angry, sickened, and most of all, sorry for behaving as he did. He couldn't go back to Aaron. An explanation would be expected for his unforeseen and violent behavior. Aaron would want to know why, and he wouldn't let up until Daryl gave him an answer. He couldn't tell him because he couldn't talk about it. He didn't want to talk about it because it would take him right back to that dark cell with the horrible music and the putrid smells. It would take him back to the feel of Brady forcing himself upon Daryl's body, making him say Aaron's name aloud while he . . .

Daryl used the excuse that he was feeling claustrophobic, and that seemed to make matters better temporarily. The fact that he stormed out of the room, leaving Aaron to wonder what happened didn't help the situation. He couldn't ignore Aaron. He didn't want to, but he just wasn't ready to tell anyone about his secret. To know what happened to him, and that he wasn't able to stop it made Daryl feel small and weak. He feared Aaron would see him this way too, and come to pity him or be disgusted by him. It was better to keep this to himself until enough time passed that he could deal with it.

He walked around until he came to the gardens. There was an area where the plants were tall, and he stepped just inside to hide from the world. All around him, all he could see were these plants, but when he looked up, the sky was limitless with the stars that wheeled above. Up there was freedom … freedom from all the awful, vile unpleasantness of this world and those things that kept finding their way back into Daryl's life. Why was it happening to him? Why did it always happen to him? His emotions jumbled and became too much. He fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands covering his face. Nothing would ever be the same again. He was ruined beyond repair this time.

The sun was coming up. The beams of light touched his eyelids and woke him. How long had he been here? Long enough that the effects of the whiskey had worn away. He peeked out from the plants that had been his camouflage, and saw that the courtyard was still fairly empty. Only a few people were out. He could slip out unnoticed, and that's what he did. He climbed a set of stairs that led to a breezeway and walked along, not knowing where he was going. He couldn't go back to his room. Aaron was probably still sleeping. Daryl didn't want to be alone with him right now, where he could ask all kinds of questions that couldn't be answered. The smell of food wafted past him, and he thought of how hungry he was. He decided to go to the kitchen.

Part of the way there, he passed by the doors that led to King Ezekiel's meeting chamber, which was just a school auditorium. The door opened and Jesus came out. As soon as he saw Daryl, he sighed with relief. "Thank God, there you are. Where've you been?"

"I couldn't sleep last night. Been walking around, clearing my head," Daryl said.

"Aaron's been all over this place since before the sun came up looking for you. He woke me up to see if I knew where you might be. The two of us have been scouring the place," Jesus said. "He was just about ready to set out and search the surrounding area to see if you left the Kingdom."

"I didn't go anywhere. Shit, I just needed some time alone. Can't I have that?" Daryl complained.

"Well, you might want to go tell Aaron you're all right," Jesus said, but he took hold of Daryl's arm and searched his face. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," Daryl said being curt. He could tell Jesus wanted to ask him more, but Daryl softened his eyes and nodded. "I'm fine. Where's Aaron?"

"Last I saw, he was over there by the next building."

"Thanks," Daryl said as he pulled away from Jesus and headed in that direction. He wasn't going there, though. He looked back, and when he didn't see Jesus, he went toward the mess hall to find food.

The cooks were still preparing the morning meal, but there were other things sitting out for people to snack on. Daryl took an apple and bit into it. It was sweet and juicy, and his stomach screamed out to him to swallow faster. He heard the door open, and looked over his shoulder. Benjamin came in with a sack in one hand. He saw Daryl and smiled as he approached.

"Hey, Daryl. You're up early," Benjamin said.

Daryl lifted his apple. "Early bird theory."

"Good one," Benjamin chortled as he reached into the basket and took out a couple apples, a pear and a pomegranate. He put them into his sack and went to another basket that had cucumbers, tomatoes, and green beans and sweet peppers, taking a few of each and putting them in his bag.

"Who's that for?" Daryl wondered.

"This? Oh, it's, uh, it's for King Ezekiel. Yeah, he likes to have something handy as he makes his rounds," Benjamin stammered nervously.

"I didn't know he made rounds," Daryl interrogated. Benjamin was behaving oddly.

"Yeah, he's very involved with all of his people, and sometimes giving them food makes them feel better about things."

"What kind of things?" Daryl pressed on.

Benjamin shrugged his shoulders. "I-I don't know, whatever concerns they have. I don't ask, I just do what he requests of me." He smiled at Daryl.

For some reason, Daryl was curious about Benjamin's behavior. It felt as though he was trying to hide something, and Daryl knew the Kingdom, just like any other community, must have its secrets. He was about to ask another question when the door opened again and Aaron came in. The look on his face made Daryl's heart hurt. He looked so worried, but relief washed over him as soon as he saw Daryl. Aaron came over to him, his eyes never leaving Daryl.

"Oh, hey Aaron," Benjamin said kindly.

"Hi Benjamin," Aaron responded, but he was looking at Daryl. Benjamin looked from one man to the other and backed up. "I'll see you around," he said and slinked away to leave them alone. Apparently, the kid could feel the tension too.

When they were alone, Aaron pulled Daryl into his arms and held him. He whispered into his ear. "I thought you left."

"I'm right here," Daryl said, trying not to let his emotions show.

"Where were you? You just … left, and I didn't know what to do."

"I couldn't sleep. Ended up walking around this place all night, trying see if I could find out anything that might help us," Daryl said.

"Did you find anything?" Aaron asked.

"No," Daryl said brusquely. He could tell by the troubled aspect of his eyes and the frown on his lips that Aaron wanted to know more, and Daryl spoke harshly to shut him down. "That's all it was. Now, drop it." He felt like an asshole for talking to Aaron like that, but this was the only way to deal with the situation at the moment.

Aaron took a step back from him. "We're meeting with Ezekiel in about half an hour. I'll see you then." Aaron's tone was harsh in return, and he left the mess hall.

Daryl lost his appetite and abandoned the apple he was eating, leaving it on one of the picnic tables.

* * *

Aaron stormed out of the mess hall and into the courtyard. He wasn't sure what was going on. Daryl wouldn't talk to him. He'd left him last night just as they were about to . . .

This wasn't normal, but he had to remind himself that Daryl just went through a traumatic experience with Negan and the Saviors. Now he was on the run from him. That's all this was, he convinced himself. Knowing Daryl, he was probably scared for everyone around him more than for himself, worried that they would be punished if they were in the same vicinity as Daryl, should he get caught. Aaron felt Daryl was pushing him away, and this was probably the reason, but he just wanted to help. He wanted to be the one to keep Daryl safe, just like they always did for each other. This was how their relationship worked. They hadn't had this kind of complication before, and it was putting a definite strain on them. It had only been a couple days. Daryl needed time. Aaron was the one who was anxious to get back to what they had before everything went awry.

He stopped and gave a sigh, letting his shoulders drop in defeat. Then he turned around and went back to the mess hall, but Daryl was gone already. Aaron found the half eaten apple, picked it up and deposited it in the compost bin. "Where'd you go now, Daryl?" he said to himself.

The courtyard was becoming busy with early morning risers out picking the gardens. Aaron didn't see Daryl anywhere, but that didn't surprise him. Daryl wasn't in a talking mood. Making his way back to his room, Aaron ran into Sasha. She smiled at him as they passed in the hall, but then she called out to him.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asked. Aaron turned around and gave her a forced smile.

"It's fine."

Sasha came towards him, her brows pressed together. "You don't look fine. What's happened?"

Aaron hung his head. "It's Daryl. He's … aloof," was all he said.

"Well, he just went through something–"

"Yeah, I get it," Aaron interrupted. "I just thought he would talk to me about it. He hasn't told me anything about his time at the Sanctuary. I thought he could open up to me, but he's pushing me away."

"Everyone deals with trauma differently. He's probably still trapped in that place. He'll come around," Sasha said.

"I hope so," Aaron replied.

"I'm going to grab a bite to eat. Wanna come?" she smiled.

"Thanks, but I was going to my room to get my stuff together. Rick wants to leave as soon as Ezekiel gives his verdict." Aaron went on to his room and went inside. He stared at the messy bed, and the sheet on the floor where Aaron had dropped it after using it to cover himself when Daryl stormed out of the room. What the hell had happened? Aaron took the initiative to undress Daryl, who came back drunk, so that he could rest comfortably. He wasn't trying for anything else. As a matter of fact, it was Daryl who started it all when he pinned Aaron to the bed and undressed him. It was the wound on his side, the one Aaron tried to get a look at that triggered Daryl. He was very sensitive to it, and didn't want Aaron looking at it. Who had stabbed him and why? Aaron wondered. And how did it play into everything else? Daryl seemed accepting up until Aaron … when he tried to take control.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said to himself, knowing how Daryl needed control from time to time. And after being locked away like he was, of course he would want total command. Still, something wasn't right because as Aaron physically suggested where the night should lead, Daryl didn't hesitate. "He was drunk, though," Aaron reminded himself. That would factor in. He came to the conclusion that Daryl was dealing with his demons, and Aaron trying to be the dominant one had been bad timing. "He'll come around and talk to me eventually," he reassured himself.

Aaron had his pack and walked with the others to the courtyard. When they got there, King Ezekiel was already there, along with Benjamin, Richard and a couple others from his court. Ezekiel started out by smiling and talking about how idealistic the Kingdom was. However, it wasn't like this when they found it, and the King and his people had to fight and struggle for this place. The people of the Kingdom lost a lot in the process. Ezekiel gestured to some of the young people, and Aaron noticed a girl practicing with her bow. She was sitting on a stool as she aimed, and that's when he noticed she was missing a leg. He took notice that others were missing an arm or a hand. Most were young, some were adults.

"Husbands lost wives. Mother's lost children. Some children have been orphaned. It was a very difficult struggle, but we survived, and together we've made the Kingdom into what we most wanted and needed, a safe place to live and prosper. This is what I promised them. This is what we have achieved. I don't want to have to put them through that again, especially when I have peace with the Saviors. Our agreement has worked out well. I supply the Saviors. They do not step foot inside the Kingdom. My people stay safe."

"And just how much longer do you think that's gonna last," said Daryl, walking up to the group. He was late in joining them. Aaron watched him, and noticed that Daryl wouldn't look at him. Neither did he come to stand next to him.

"That is our agreement," Ezekiel said to Daryl in a calm manner. "That is how we keep the peace."

"We can't fight them alone," Rick said. "We don't even have enough to take on one outpost. We need people and weapons. You have both."

"I'll not risk my people's lives. It is what I promised them. I will, however offer asylum to Daryl. As I said, the Saviors never step foot inside the Kingdom. He will be safe here," Ezekiel finished.

The group looked defeated, and Aaron could feel their disappointment. He was disappointed too, but the offer for Daryl's safety was a good one. He moved over to stand next to him. "It's a good idea," he whispered with no reaction from Daryl.

"Thank you for hearing us out," Rick said. He seemed to be the only one who didn't show his disappointment. It was a long way from the Rick who showed up at Alexandria, and tried to force his leadership on them. Aaron was proud of how Rick had changed. He turned to his group. "It's time to get back."

Everyone thanked Ezekiel and the group of Alexandrians were ready to leave. Richard would lead them out of the Kingdom and to the border. Then they would be on their own to get back. Rick, Daryl, Aaron and Richard walked together out in front of the rest. Richard seemed frustrated. He wanted this to work out. He was one of the Kingdom's soldiers who knew they needed to fight.

"I'm sorry, Rick. I really thought he was convinced. I hate to say it, but I think your old pal, Morgan got in his ear with that no killing shit. That's never going to work. The only way any of us can get away from the Saviors is to fight them."

"I know that, and you know that, but unfortunately, Ezekiel has a different way of thinking," Rick said.

"Do you have people that would be willing to fight for us in spite of Ezekiel's ruling?" Aaron wondered.

Richard shook his head. "I've been trying for a long time to make that happen. Everyone is loyal to him. They obey his final ruling."

"Maybe it's not numbers we need," Daryl said. "If we have the right kind of fire power."

"You said there were a lot of civilians, innocent people living in the Sanctuary," Rick said to make a point.

"They are living under Negan's rule. Negan is a psychopath and a murderer. Guilt by association," Daryl commented.

Aaron didn't like how Daryl had turned into someone unfeeling and callous. The person he knew would not want to put innocent people at risk. "We still need a plan," Aaron offered. "Maybe if we can come up with that we'll know how many people we need to work with us. We still have some people willing to join us from Hilltop. Let's not forget that."

Paul came dashing out to meet them. "How'd the meeting go?" he asked, hopeful, but the look on everyone's faces answered the question for him. "He didn't go for it."

"The problem is," Richard said, "we are the ones making the Saviors stronger by supplying them with food and weapons. We have to do something, and we have to do it soon before it's too late." He seemed like a man at the end of his rope. He had found hope in the people from Alexandria, but it wasn't enough to make a difference.

They arrived at the gate, and it slid open for them. Rick shook hands with Richard and got his people heading out the gate. Aaron and Daryl were the last to follow. As they approached, Rick moved in front of them and looked at Daryl. "You need to stay here."

"What? Fuck no. I'm going," Daryl said aggressively.

Aaron felt panic in his chest. He had just found Daryl again. He didn't want to leave him behind. He stepped forward to say something, but Rick put a hand out to stop him. "I need you here," he said to Daryl. "For one, I don't need you to risk getting caught by the Saviors. I'm going to need you later when we go up against these guys. And for another, I need you to stay in Ezekiel's ear, try to convince him to fight this battle with us. The Kingdom is our best shot. You know that. Hilltop doesn't have enough people, and they don't have any weapons. Stay here and you'll be safe, and when it's time, then you can come back. I just don't think now is a good time."

Aaron watched Daryl to see what he reaction would be. He wasn't looking at Rick or Aaron. He was looking off to the side, considering his options. Aaron had a feeling he wasn't going to agree to this arrangement. "I'll stay here, too," Aaron finally offered. That got Daryl's attention, and he glanced at Aaron. "Whatever it takes. I want you safe, and maybe between the two of us, we can talk some sense into Ezekiel."

"Are you sure? I could really use you right now," Rick said.

"It's up to Daryl," Aaron said to him, and he waited to see what Daryl had to say about it. He was silent for the longest time, shifting from one foot to the other. Aaron could sense that Daryl wanted to agree, but whatever chased him away last night was keeping him from complying. "Please," Aaron said when their eyes locked for a moment. Finally, Daryl nodded and Aaron was relieved.

"Okay then. We have to go. I'll send word just as soon as I know something," Rick told them, and he left through the gate. Aaron and Daryl stood side by side and watched the others leave until the gates closed. Aaron glanced at Daryl, who was still looking at the gate. He was in another world, but he wasn't letting Aaron in on it.

"I guess I should go tell Ezekiel that I'm staying here, too. I don't think it will be a problem. He seems like a level headed guy," Aaron said, breaking the silence.

"Too level headed," Daryl commented.

"That's what we need to talk to him about. Any ideas how we might get him to agree with our plan?"

"Well," Daryl said, walking back toward the courtyard with Aaron in tow. "He's not stubborn like Gregory, which will make him harder to convince. We've asked him, and given him time to think about it, and he still said no. Ezekiel needs a harder push, but I don't how to do that. That's what we need to find out."

"Sounds like a plan," Aaron said, rushing his tread to catch up. When they were shoulder to shoulder, Aaron bumped into him playfully. Daryl's eyes glanced sideways, but he wouldn't look at him completely. Some kind of strange tension still divided them. "Want me to see if we can change rooms, since you're uncomfortable in the one we have now?"

"Naw, it's okay. I don't know … I was drunk, and … I guess all this talk about the Saviors kind of screwed with my head. I'll be all right. I just need some time, that's all," Daryl said.

"You know you can talk to me. You haven't said much about your time at the Sanctuary," Aaron said to try and get him to open up.

"It sucked," Daryl said tersely, which also meant he didn't want to discuss it.

"All right. Just know I'm here whenever you want to talk."

Daryl forced a smile and glanced hesitantly at Aaron. "I know you are."

Aaron thought it was a good time to change the subject. "So, you want to get breakfast? I know you're hungry, and you need to eat a proper meal for once. You've lost weight. I could see that."

"You don't want me getting fat, do you?" Daryl attempted to jest in order to avoid talking about it.

"No, but I don't want you to wither away either." Aaron pointed toward the mess hall. "I'm buying," he joked.

* * *

Later, Daryl and Aaron settled into their room for the night. Aaron told him about his meeting with Ezekiel. "He had no problem with me staying here. I didn't want to start in on him about helping Alexandria, but I did ask if we could sit down later and allow me to tell him our story. I thought that maybe if he knew more about all of us, maybe it might soften him."

"You always were the negotiator," Daryl said.

"Doesn't always work though. The Saviors weren't buying it when they came early to Alexandria, when Rick and I were out and found that boat," Aaron remembered.

"Yeah, you started to tell me about that, but you didn't say what happened." Daryl seemed interested, and as long as he and Aaron kept up a conversation, there wouldn't be any awkward moments between them. Daryl was still trying to avoid him, at least when it came to sleeping together.

Aaron proceeded to tell him about finding the boat and having to navigate a pond full of walkers. Internally, Daryl cringed when Aaron told him about a close call he had. He felt guilty for not being there. And then he felt angry for knowing that Aaron took such a dangerous risk.

"Dammit, Aaron, you could have drowned. You could have been bit," he said with a raised tone. "You shouldn't be out there risking your life for some canned goods and guns with no ammo."

Aaron remained calm. He didn't respond at first. They were sitting at the foot of the bed, and Aaron moved back and laid down with his head on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. He let out a long audible sigh before he spoke, taking a moment to gather his words. "I did it for you. Everything I've done lately has been for you," he said quietly. "They said they were coming back and expected us to deliver half of everything we had. They had already been there once and took half. We had to have something to give them or–" He paused to swallow a lump in his throat. "Or they would send you back in pieces. We knew better than to take Negan's threats lightly."

Daryl hung his head, the weight of it all pushing down on him. People acting on his behalf, it was too much to think about. He didn't feel he was worth people's lives, most of all Aaron's. If anyone needed to survive it was him. He was a good man. He wasn't ruined. He could have a future in this world, even without Daryl. "You shouldn't have given in to his demands. Not for me. You should have let me die and then he wouldn't have any leverage."

"What did you just say?" Aaron whispered. He sat up and stood from the bed, coming around to stand in front of Daryl. "Why would you say that to me?"

"Because I'm just one person, and there were a bunch of you out there risking your lives." Daryl's words were spoken without feeling, empty of any emotion. "I'm not worth it."

"That's bullshit, and you know it," Aaron said angrily. "You are worth everything to me. Rick thinks of you as his brother. We are all family, and we will go to the ends to save each other."

"Family doesn't get each other killed." Daryl looked up at Aaron through his long black hair. His eyes were hidden beneath the strands, but Aaron could still see the tears that threatened. "It was my fault, you know … my fault that Glenn died. He died because of who I am. I act before I think. I speak before realize how my words hurt. I hurt you when I accused you of … you and Jesus. And then I ran away, and that started the chain of events that ended with Glenn and Abraham's deaths. I'm nothing but shit, so excuse me if I can't seem to understand why people would risk their lives for me, because I did nothing but bring sorrow."

His words were very dark, very harrowing. It was breaking Aaron's heart to hear him speak like this. He suddenly felt like he was towering over Daryl, and fell to his knees on the floor in front of him. Now he looked up at his love. "You are the most important person in my life," Aaron told him. "None of the things you said are true, not from my point of view."

"I ran away, and Glenn came after me. If that didn't happen, maybe he'd still be alive," Daryl argued.

"Maggie became sick, and fearing for the life of her unborn child, we decided to take her to Hilltop. Is it Maggie's fault that we were caught in the woods by Negan? Did you ever think of how it would have played out if you didn't run off? Glenn would have still ended up in the exact same place, because he would have been with Maggie," Aaron countered.

"But it was me," Daryl cried in a voice that Aaron had never heard before. It was that of a man at the end of all things. "I'm the one who got out of line. I'm the one who punched Negan. I couldn't listen. I couldn't conform. That's why Glenn died. That's why I deserved everything that happened to me in that place. I wanted to escape. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be with you again. But now I feel like I don't deserve any of it, and I'm still a danger to you, especially if the Saviors find me."

Aaron felt a tear run down his cheek because of Daryl's admission. How could he feel this way? After everything they had been through so far, how could he ever think he didn't deserve to be happy? Aaron moved between Daryl's legs and wrapped his arms around his waist. He buried his head in Daryl's chest and held him tight. "You scare me when you talk like this. I feel like there isn't anything I can say that will sway you away from your own thoughts. I don't know what happened to you, but you are stronger than anything they put you through."

Daryl rested his head on top of Aaron's. It felt good to be in his arms again, but there was still a barrier that he couldn't break through. "That's why I've got you … to remind me of that now and then."

Aaron lifted his head and stared into Daryl's eyes. "Come to bed now." He stood from his position on the floor and laid down on his side of the bed. Daryl was hesitant and he dared to look over his shoulder. "Just to sleep … Like old times," Aaron smiled at him.

His words sparked an old memory. Daryl remembered it vividly. They were at the cabin. Aaron had admitted his feelings for Daryl, but there was still turmoil in his heart. He had spent most of the night telling Aaron his story, of where and how he grew up, of the horrors that fell upon him as a teen, and how he had hid from himself for years afterwards. Talking to Aaron renewed his soul. Daryl spoke of things he'd never told another person before. He trusted Aaron with his past, and in doing so, he learned to deal with his demons. But he was also afraid of what would come of admitting those secrets aloud. He didn't want to be alone that night, but he wasn't in a place where he was comfortable with his true identity yet. As Aaron was about to go to his room, Daryl called out to him, asked him to stay the night, and then added, just to sleep so there wouldn't be any misunderstandings. Now Aaron was saying this to him again, and Daryl was at another crucial point in his life when things didn't make sense.

Daryl stood and walked around to his side of the bed. Aaron was laying on his side, watching to see what Daryl would do. He sat down, took of his shoes and laid down next to Aaron, on his back looking at the ceiling. He could feel Aaron's eyes upon him, but the slow steady sound of his breathing meant he was relaxed. Just to sleep, Daryl thought again, and he closed his eyes. He laid there and thought about telling Aaron the truth, but it would mean revisiting that cell, and the smells and sounds. The first time Daryl opened up to Aaron, the trauma had happened years earlier. This had only been weeks … days. It was too new to speak of. What would Aaron think of him once he learned that another man had . . .

Maybe he could talk about the rest. It might help him. Aaron was a good listener. They shared everything and that shouldn't change. They were always honest with each other. That's what made their relationship so strong. Once the lies started, it would slowly rip them apart. But not telling someone something wasn't the same as lying. You could only lie if you told a false story. Technically is wasn't lying, Daryl convinced himself, yet deep down he knew he was wrong to keep it a secret.

He listened to Aaron's breathing. It had slowed a bit more. He was drifting off to sleep. If Daryl didn't say something now, he never would. "They kept me in a cell, a darkened room, concrete block, solid metal door," Daryl said. It was more difficult than he imagined, to start talking about it.

Aaron shifted and raised his head. His arm came up, and he anchored it under his head so that Daryl would know he was listening. Aaron didn't speak, he would only listen. Daryl went on.

"When I got there, they took my clothes, left me naked in that room. It was cold … so cold. There ain't nothing worse than not being able to get warm." Daryl paused. He shivered at the memory. "There was no food, just a small amount of water every now and then, enough to keep me alive. And this song kept playing over and over. It was loud, made my ears ring whenever they turned it off."

"They were trying to confuse you," Aaron said.

"They were trying to break me," Daryl told him.

"Why? Did they want information?" Aaron wondered.

"Naw. It was Negan. He said he saw something in me, something special. He never intended to let me go back. He wanted me to join his organization, and he knew I wouldn't do it willingly." Daryl stopped, letting it sink in. What did Negan see? What part of him made Negan want to keep him? It was different from how Aaron saw him. It stemmed back to Daryl's past, the person he used to be, the way he was raised, the people he associated with. That's who Negan saw potential in. It was a part of Daryl that he'd never been able to completely be rid of. People like Negan could always sense it, and they always tried to turn him back into the man he used to be. Maybe that was the true Daryl, and the one he'd been with Aaron was a front, someone he tried to be but could never really turn into.

Aaron thought what Daryl told him so far sounded awful, but he knew Daryl, and this wasn't enough to make him change the way he had. He was distant, even with Aaron. Their first night together was so tense, Daryl ended up fleeing from their room. Something else happened to him, but he hadn't gotten that far in the story. Aaron wondered if he would admit it at all.

"Eventually they gave me food, only because they didn't want to kill me. I had that hope, at least. They gave me clothes, and told me that I had to start earning me keep once they started feeding me. The tradeoff sucked. I had to work the fence. That meant chaining walkers to the outer perimeter, cleaning up the ones that deteriorated, and changing out the weaker ones in the front for stronger ones. I did this in exchange for dog food. That's all they would feed me."

"Jesus," Aaron whispered in disgust. He rolled onto his side, facing Daryl, and placed a hand on his arm. When Daryl didn't flinch, he relaxed.

"When I was strong enough, they started dangling prizes in front of me like a carrot to a donkey. They showed me this little apartment with a bed and a stove, a table and a chair, and bookshelves with lots of books." Daryl briefly glanced at Aaron and the corner of his mouth curled slightly. "I thought about you when I saw them, how you'd love to have some new books you haven't read yet."

Aaron smiled and squeezed Daryl's arm, glad to know he had been in Daryl's thoughts while he was being tortured.

Daryl continued. "Negan said it could all be mine, and I could be one of his 'top guys', as he put it, if I'd just do one thing. He asked me, 'Who are you?' and I was supposed to say, 'Negan'. That's how they all answer, you know. That's why that prick at the satellite station said his name was Negan. It's not just a name, it's an operation."

"Did you do it?" Aaron asked.

Daryl thought about this, because in the end, when he was killing the kid known as Joey, he felt himself changing, conforming, reverting back into someone he had always hated, but that had always been a part of him. Aaron chased that demon away, but Negan conjured it again. It was Jesus who kept him from plunging into the darkness. Daryl had been right at the edge of that disastrous abyss when Jesus came around the corner and called out to him. They escaped shortly after that.

"No," Daryl finally answered, his thought still on Jesus. Why hadn't he asked him about the scene he came upon when he found Daryl? It wasn't the fact that he found Daryl killing someone. Daryl had killed. It was nothing new to him. It was the way he was doing it, the rage that was behind every strike with the metal pipe. Joey was dead. He'd been dead since the second or third hit, but Daryl kept going, just like Negan had done to Abraham and to Glenn. But it was the cause of that rage that Daryl kept secret.

"Negan threw me back in my cell. He was pissed, but he controlled it. He couldn't kill me. I mean, he could have, but he didn't want to. He still wanted to break me, and what happened next was part of it." Daryl took a deep breath and continued. "The next time I was given food, I didn't hear the lock click. I tried the door and it was open. I thought it was a mistake. The guy just forgot. I should have known better, but I just wanted out of that place. I took the bait, left the cell, quietly made my way out of the building, only to be surrounded by them. It was a trap. They set the whole thing up, deliberately left the door unlocked. Negan wanted to see what I would do with that. He was testing me to see how far I'd come along in his process of changing my way of thinking. Negan came out. He threatened me, yelled at me, gave me another chance to give him the right answer. I didn't do it. Strike two, I thought. In return, his men beat the fucking shit out of me, within an inch of my pathetic life. I won't lie when I say I almost wish they had killed me, because what came after the beating–"

Daryl was so wrapped up in his story, so close to reliving those moments, he almost told Aaron what happened in his cell with Brady. He wanted to. His soul screamed out to tell Aaron everything. No secrets. No hiding. Aaron would understand. He hesitated and swallowed the words, berating himself internally for almost telling everything to Aaron. It was better that he didn't know. Daryl would just deal with it himself, just like he had when he was a kid.

"Why? What happened?" Aaron asked anxiously.

Daryl shook his head and spoke quietly. "Nothing, just more of the same shit. In the end, someone helped me escape, and it wasn't Jesus. He was still trying to find a way inside when he found me. Someone left a note, a key, and a way out. I still don't know who it was, but I'd like to thank them some day. Doubt I'll ever know though." He somehow managed to reel himself in from the memories of his ordeal and the Sanctuary. He told Aaron as much as he was willing to share, and didn't run away like he did last night. The night was still young, though.

"I'd like to thank him too, because I got you back," Aaron said. "I spent enough time worrying and wringing my hands to know that I don't like this life without you in it."

Daryl rolled towards him, and looked deep into Aaron's eyes. "You were all that kept me going, and I remembered what you taught me, to always stay true to who I am. I did that to the best of my ability, even when I started to doubt myself." He moved closer until their lips were almost touching. "I'm glad I'm here too." He kissed Aaron, but it was simple and sweet. That was all he could allow for now.

Aaron understood, and when they were finished with the kiss, Aaron rolled away from him, but he pushed his back against Daryl's front and settled into the contour of their bodies. They were finally together, alone and safe for now. They would both sleep sound for the first time in weeks because they had each other. Neither one knew how long that would last. It might be their only opportunity.

Daryl waited a few minutes, and then he draped his arm over Aaron's waist. He felt Aaron's hand come up and pet his arm. Then their fingers linked together. "I love you," Daryl whispered. It was one of the few times he said it first.

"I love you too," Aaron answered, and they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Daryl got up before Aaron and dressed. He was glad for the restful night, but now he was anxious to see what needed to happen next. Rick wanted him to stay behind and talk to Ezekiel. Daryl knew he was the wrong man for the job. Daryl wasn't good at convincing anyone of anything, and when he tried, it usually ended with yelling and disagreement. He could already tell that Ezekiel wouldn't take kindly to Daryl's way of negotiations. Aaron would be the better man for the job, if he wanted to go that route. He did, however, like talking with Richard. They got along well when Jesus introduced them. They didn't talk specifics, but they seemed to see things the same way. Maybe if he talked to Richard about Ezekiel, get a feel for the guy, find out what his story was, then Daryl could at least relate the information back to Aaron. If Aaron wanted to speak with Ezekiel he could be better prepared with some inside information.

He went onto the breezeway that looked out over the courtyard. People were already up and about. He could smell breakfast cooking in the mess hall kitchen. The day was well underway, and Daryl realized he might have slept in longer than he thought. He had no concept of time anymore. In Alexandria, he could tell by the position of the sun as it came in through the bedroom window. Here, in the Kingdom, the buildings were tall and the sun didn't get bright until it finally broke over the rooftops.

Looking around at the different people, they seemed peaceful. Mothers were reading to their little ones. Fathers were playing catch with their older children. Those of teenage years were doing chores, and there were plenty of those is seemed. Young men and women gathered in a group with their leader, and started jogging around the perimeter of the courtyard. They were dressed like soldiers with minimal armor. There was a group of young people gathered in a seating area, singing in harmony, and another group having a discussion about a book they had all read. Life here was very much as it used to be, but Daryl had a sense that these people weren't like the ones he met in Alexandria. They knew exactly what was out there. They weren't in denial, but they didn't live in fear either. They kept themselves ready for anything that might happen. They trained and then taught future generations. After all, life was going on even with the dead walking. The Kingdom was exactly what Rick was trying to do in Alexandria, produce a safe place to live where people could return to their roots, but also be prepared for the dangers that always lurked outside of the fences. This was all fine and dandy, but the fact was, there was a war brewing, and Daryl couldn't just sit around picking cantaloupe, waiting for someone tell him it was time to go. He needed to do something useful.

He walked to the end of the breezeway where there was a set of stairs that led to the second floor of the building or to the sidewalk below. There was a place at the end of the building where their cars and trucks were parked, and he saw Morgan talking to Benjamin. It looked like they just got back from somewhere. They looked a little distraught, and Daryl wondered what happened. Then Daryl noticed that Morgan didn't have his walking stick. He waited until Morgan was done talking to Benjamin and the kid left, then he approached.

"Hey, you all just get back from somewhere?" he asked, but Morgan wasn't saying anything. He didn't look like he wanted to talk at all. Daryl had to admit that the guy got under his skin like a splinter you couldn't dig out. Maybe Richard was right when he warned that he thought Morgan got to Ezekiel with his 'no kill' policy. That shit bugged the crap out of Daryl.

Taking a closer look, Daryl saw blood on Morgan's ear and became suspicious. "You went out and met them, didn't you?" Daryl pointed at Morgan's ear. "They do that to you too? And you still think you can keep the peace with them?" Daryl said accusingly. Morgan reached up and wiped his ear, looked at his fingers and saw the blood.

"Got a little roughed up, nothing much," Morgan said.

"Maybe this time, but you know it's just gonna get worse, and still you want to sit around and play Mary Poppins." Daryl narrowed his eyes and stared at Morgan. This guy was really pissing him off. "What the hell is wrong with you? If Carol was here, if she knew about Glenn and Abraham, she'd be out there doing something, hunting them down, not taking it like a bitch."

"I know she would, and that's why she left," Morgan returned.

Daryl didn't like the fact that Morgan thought he knew Carol better than him. There was something in Morgan's eyes that wasn't quite right, and Daryl thought the man knew more than he was saying. What happened with Carol, he wondered? Why'd she leave the way she did? Morgan knew something about her, but he wasn't saying. Another mystery to solve. He huffed, turned and walked away from Morgan, walking back the way he came. "Fuck this shit," he muttered to himself. He was tired of waiting, and he knew there wasn't anything he could say to Ezekiel to convince him to join Alexandria. Daryl needed to do something productive, to contribute, but he needed to figure out where he would be the most helpful.

He was walking past the archery practice grounds when he saw Richard shooting arrows from a traditional bow. He could see a table full of archery weapons, and one in particular caught his eye, a crossbow. He remembered Richard saying something about an idea he had when he was drinking with him and Jesus. Maybe now was the time to find out what Richard had in mind. At least he was willing to get the ball rolling. Depending on his plan, maybe Daryl could work with him and take their idea to Ezekiel. It was worth a try, so they went across the yard and walked up to Richard.

"Good morning," Richard greeted right before he loosed an arrow. The arrow went left of the target. "I thought I better start learning to use one of these. Bullets won't last forever." He put the bow down to his side and turned to Daryl. "I hear you're a damn fine bowman." He pointed to the table of weapons. "See anything you like?"

Daryl had already eyed a crossbow similar to the one Dwight stole. He didn't realize until now just how much he missed his weapon and the feel of it in his hands and on his back. A gun or a knife just wasn't the same. He could use both, and he had since losing his bow, but this was what he was most comfortable with. He picked it up carefully, seductively, ran a hand along its body, and stared down its length. He was beginning to feel empowered again, if only just a bit. While checking over the weapon, he spoke. "So, you mentioned something earlier about a plan?"

"I've got an idea, yeah," Richard said. "Haven't shared it with anyone yet, but it just might be a way to get a fire started under Ezekiel's ass, and get him off his throne."

Daryl looked through the scope on the crossbow and lined up the target. He fired it and took notice of the kickback. It felt different, but it wasn't anything he couldn't get used to. He moaned quietly. God, it felt good to fire it, and he imagined Negan's head in place of the target.

"Whatcha got in mind?" Daryl asked, still checking the weapon.

"We can't talk about it here. Besides, I'd rather show you. Feel like going for a hike?" Richard smiled slyly.

He really should see Aaron first. Daryl left before he woke up, and after his panic attack yesterday, he was afraid Aaron would send a search party this time.

"It won't take long," Richard said to convince him when he saw that Daryl was hesitating.

"All right," Daryl agreed, and he left, again, without telling Aaron where he was going.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49 Tigers Eye**

Richard led Daryl a little ways out from the Kingdom, trekking along through a forest. They spoke very little, concentrating on their surroundings as they went. Finally, they came to an old abandoned camping trailer, hidden by the trees and underbrush.

Daryl stopped and waited to see what Richard was up to. "What's this?" he asked cautiously.

Richard went to the door and opened it. "This is my secret stash. I've been … collecting a little bit here and there, glass jars, rags … flammable liquids. Mostly gasoline, but a little bit of pure grain alcohol too."

"Moonshine?" Daryl said, surprised by the fact that someone must have a still somewhere.

"You're familiar with the stuff?" Richard smiled.

"More than you know," Daryl said quietly. He followed Richard into the small trailer. There were milk crates full glass jars and lids, a pile of torn rags, and numerous red gas cans, full and ready to use.

"Molotov Cocktails," Richard said. "I have a few weapons too, but they're not here. Don't want to keep it all in one place. You know what I mean?"

"Eggs. Basket. I get it," Daryl said as he looked around at the amount of material Richard had. "You're really serious about this."

"Damn straight. So can you understand why I'm so frustrated? If Ezekiel would just give the word, I've already got a head start to get things rolling."

"Does anyone else know about this place?" Daryl asked.

"No. I'm not giving it up until I'm sure I've got enough people on my side. You're on my side, aren't you? We share the same goal … killing Saviors."

Daryl nodded. This was a good start, but there was no plan. "What's your idea?"

Richard was ecstatic that someone was willing to work with him. "We know we don't have enough firepower to go up against the Saviors. That's why we need to strike first."

"That's a given," Daryl agreed.

"But the only way we're going to be able to do that is to get Ezekiel on board. As you saw for yourself, he's not going to budge easily. We have to give him a push. We need to do something that's going to get him to move." As Richard talked, he opened an old army locker and pulled out a duffle bag that looked like it had some guns in it. Then he put together one of his Molotov Cocktails. When he was done, he opened the door to the trailer and stepped out. "Now to show you the first stage of the plan."

Daryl wasn't sure what Richard was up to, but he could tell by his enthusiasm that he had thought this out and was waiting for just the right opportunity. He followed the man out of the trailer, and a short distance through the woods. They broke from the tree line and came out by a road. There was an abandoned eighteen wheeler paralleling the road, and Richard led Daryl to it. He put the bag down, and set the cocktail next to it. Then he took a gun out of the bag. Daryl still had the crossbow and a knife on his belt. Whatever Richard's plan was, it seemed like he was not only showing Daryl, he was going to carry it out too.

"This road is used by the Saviors. No one else uses it. I've been watching them for a while so I know. There will be a group of them coming by anytime now, three, maybe four. They'll have guns. We'll be outnumbered. We need to ambush them, take them out quick, make it look bad, enough to incite war with them. Another group will come by, see the brutal scene and their dead comrades. We're going to leave a very noticeable trail that leads to a house a couple miles out from the Kingdom. There's a lone woman that lives there. Now, I've stashed a cache of weapons by the house. The Saviors will find it and think the woman is responsible for killing their men. They'll probably kill her. Ezekiel cares for this woman. He sends her food all the time, checks up on her. Her death is what will push him towards war."

Daryl heard what Richard was saying up until he mentioned a woman living alone in a house. Red flags went up immediately, and all he wanted to know was who this woman was. "What's her name?" he asked, his voice turned dark.

"She chose to live out there by herself. It's basically a death sentence," Richard went on.

"Her name," Daryl demanded.

"The way I see it, she's just–"

"What's her fucking name?!" Daryl yelled.

Richard paused and shook his head. "Carol. Her name is Carol."

Emotions mixed in his chest, rage and relief. He hadn't known where Carol was, and to find out that she was right here made him want to go to her. The fact that Morgan had lied to him when he said he didn't know where she was, and now Richard was threatening her life had enraged Daryl to the point he needed to punch something. Daryl would do whatever it took to protect Carol. His eyes narrowed on Richard. "No," Daryl said, and he started to reach for the bag Richard brought. The man grabbed his arm to stop him.

Richard sighed. "You know her," he stated.

"I do, and we're not doing this." Daryl snatched his arm from him.

"Look, she chose this. You and I both know you can't survive out here alone. Sooner or later she's going to die, maybe from stiffs, maybe from Saviors, but it will happen. Why not use that to our advantage?"

"Carol is off limits. She's not going to be part of your twisted plan." Daryl got up close to Richard, glaring dangerously at him. He was considering whether or not to kill him when he heard the distant roar of engines. Both men turned to see two trucks coming up the road.

"Here they come," Richard said, turning from Daryl to retrieve his gun. "This is it. This is our chance. All we have to do is–"

He didn't finish his sentence. Daryl jumped on him, punched him and knocked him to the ground. Richard got up quickly and attacked Daryl, but Daryl overpowered him, throwing him on his back as he proceeded to punch Richard in the face. In the meantime, the trucks sped past the semi and kept going. Once they were in the clear, Daryl got up. Richard got up too, but at a slower pace. He wiped the blood from his nose and looked at his hand. Then he looked at the empty road.

"More will come by. I'll have another shot at it," Richard said. "I'll do this myself if I have to, but it would be easier if you'd help me."

Daryl charged at Richard, pushing him up against the truck and holding his arm to the man's throat. He got in his face, teeth bared in hate. "You leave Carol alone. If anything happens to her, if she dies … she gets hurt ... she gets as little as a scratch, I will fucking kill you myself." He stared at Richard another moment to make sure he made his point. Then he shoved the man's chest one more time, turned, picked up the jar of flammable liquid, and threw it on the ground, shattering the glass. The smell of hooch was familiar. It made him remember who he used to be, and where he'd come from. He should just kill Richard right now, and save himself from having to do it later, but if Ezekiel found out that Daryl murdered one of his men, it ended any chance they had of getting the Kingdom to join forces with Alexandria. Instead, Daryl picked up the bag and left Richard where he was.

Daryl was making his way back to the Kingdom, seething over the different events that had just happened. First of all, Richard's plan to sacrifice someone for the greater good made him want to put that sorry son of a bitch out of his misery. Secondly, Morgan kept the truth from him. Carol was still here. He had told Rick and himself that he found her and brought her to the Kingdom, but that she left. Daryl had been worried for her, and he thought about where she might have gone. A few times he thought about leaving to go and look for her, but he was still dealing with too many other complications. Carol was strong, and Richard was right when he mentioned that she was tougher than the two of them put together. Still, he wished she had been here since he showed up at the Kingdom. Carol was always someone he could talk to without having to tell her every little detail. He could open up to her to a degree without spilling every secret, and when he was done, he always felt better. Aaron was the only one he could ever completely be honest with, but only when Daryl was willing to admit to certain details. He wasn't ready to do that yet, but talking to Carol might help him.

Richard said she was staying in a house a couple miles out from the Kingdom. He decided to make his way around the perimeter and see if he could find this place. As he walked, he wondered if this was the right thing to do. She obviously didn't want to be found, but why? Didn't she need her family? Wasn't there something they could do to keep her safe, make her feel comfortable with them again? How could she think that being on her own was any safer? He answered his own question when he thought about himself needing to be on his own. Sometimes that was the only way to keep everyone alive. Now he wondered what happened to make Carol feel this way too.

Daryl heard voices in the distance, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Ezekiel's voice was recognizable. He remembered seeing Benjamin filling a satchel with fruit. He said it was for Ezekiel, who liked to have something for those he came upon. He was taking food to Carol. And then he thought of what Richard said. Ezekiel cared for the lone woman in the house outside of the Kingdom. He cared enough about her that her death would make him want to join the fight against the Saviors. That kind of caring went further than simply delivering food and supplies. Ezekiel really … cared … for her. That thought made Daryl feel a little better about Ezekiel's character. It also made him think that Carol wasn't as alone as Richard said she was.

The voices were coming closer, so Daryl found a place to hide as they passed. When he got a glimpse of them, he noticed that Ezekiel had a small band of soldiers with him, one of them being Benjamin with the satchel of fruit. They were going to see Carol, and Daryl followed at an unnoticeable distance. Finally, the house came into view. Ezekiel and his men stepped through the gate. Carol came out of her house. They exchanged words, but they didn't stay long. They gave her some food and a crate, probably with other supplies inside. She looked well from where Daryl was watching. He wondered what she knew of recent events. She didn't know about Glenn and Abraham. Morgan had mentioned that. But did she know about the Saviors agreement with Alexandria? Did she know that Rick had caved and was working for Negan? Did she know that Maggie and Sasha were at the Hilltop or that Daryl had been imprisoned by Negan?

Ezekiel and the rest left, and Daryl waited until they were well on their way back to the Kingdom and no longer in sight. Then he left his hiding place and walked to her house. Each step felt like two steps backwards. Finally, he made it to her door and knocked softly. She would probably think Ezekiel had come back, and she did.

"I told you," she said before the door was fully open. "I'm fine, Ezekiel, and I don't need any more–" She cut herself off when her eyes connected with Daryl. Her jaw dropped open and her bottom lip started to quiver. Tears instantly filled her sorrowful eyes. "Daryl?" she said, her voice nothing more than a squeak.

They each took a step forward and embraced. Carol was holding on to him as though she was falling into an abyss. Daryl had been teetering at its edge for a long time now. He pushed her away when he felt that he might tumble in and take her with him. He looked at her, and her tears had escaped, making trails down her cheeks. It was too much for Daryl, and his eyes filled too. So many things were running through his head, so many questions, but only one flowed from his lips. "Why'd you leave?"

Carol shook her head slowly back and forth. "I-I had to." She wiped her face with the back of her hand and reached for his. "Come inside," she said as she pulled him into her house. He went in and turned around to find her looking around the yard.

"It's just me," he told her. She seemed a little anxious about other people knowing where she was. "I was out walking around, and stumbled upon this place. I saw Ezekiel and the others leaving. Then I saw you standing on the porch."

Carol closed the door and locked it. She turned around, leaning against the door, and stared at Daryl. "Why are you here? In the Kingdom, I mean," she said, confused.

"Jesus brought us, Rick, me, and a few others. He wanted us to meet Ezekiel because … because he thought we might want to work with them," Daryl told her.

"Do the rest know I'm here?" she asked, concerned that her secret was out.

Daryl shook his head. "No. Morgan told us that he found you. You were injured, and then some of the Kingdom's soldiers found you and brought you here. He said when you healed, you left, and that he didn't know where you went."

"That's what I told him to say," she said. She seemed relieved to know that Morgan kept her secret.

"I'm sorry. If you want me to go–" he started to say.

"No," she hurried to answer. "It's okay. I've been … wondering about everyone. I couldn't bring myself to ask Morgan. Besides, I already told him I didn't want to know. He's been very good about doing as I ask."

"Sounds like Morgan," Daryl mumbled.

"Come sit. I'll put some soup on. Are you hungry?" She rushed to the kitchen where Daryl could see a counter full of fresh fruits and vegetables. She noticed him looking and laughed. "Ezekiel's worried I'll run out of food." She opened a jar and poured it into a pot. Then she took the pot into the living room where the fireplace was ablaze with flames. There was a wire rack inside, and she set the pot on it so the soup would heat. Then she came to the sitting area and had a seat on the couch. Daryl was already sitting in a plush chair from where he watched her work.

"It's not bad here," he commented. "The wallpaper is a little dated."

"Yeah, I've meant to remodel, but I just haven't found the time," she jested. "You don't happen to know any good interior decorators, do you?"

Daryl huffed a laugh too. "You asking me that because I'm gay?"

She chuckled softly and then gasp. "Oh my God, I forgot to ask you about Aaron. Where is he? Is he all right? Are you two still–"

"He's fine," he interrupted. "He's at the Kingdom … with me."

"Where are the others?"

"They left to go back home."

"Then why didn't you two go with them? Has something happened, Daryl?"

He thought he could tell her his story, but he had to do it carefully. "I was captured by Saviors, taken to their place, held prisoner." He spoke so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "Jesus helped me get away. They're looking for me. That's why I'm here and not in Alexandria."

"They captured you? You've been to their compound? Then you know where they are. You could help–"

"No," he said quickly. "I can't."

She looked at him a little closer, probably noticing the old bruises that were almost faded away by now. He still had scars and scabs from previous injuries. "Did they … hurt you?"

"I got away. That's all you need to know."

"Daryl," she retaliated.

"Who hurt you?" he asked, switching the focus to her. "Morgan said you were injured when you came to the Kingdom. Was it … them?"

Carol looked away, staring into the fire across the room. She slowly nodded. It seemed they both had memories they didn't want to revisit. She stood from the couch and went to the fireplace to stir the stew. When she was done, she looked across the room at Daryl. "I couldn't stay any longer because … I wanted … I needed you all to be safe."

"I don't understand," Daryl said.

"I couldn't see anyone come to any more harm because I knew if that happened I would have to kill again, and I can't kill any more. I knew that one more drop of blood on my blade would mean the end of who I was … who I am. And no, I'm not saying it like Morgan does. He refuses to kill. I will kill if I have to, but I don't want to. I used to be so weak. I couldn't harm a fly. And I think it was because of the way my life was back then … with Ed. He was the violent one. I had watched him get worse and worse over the years, and it weakened me, made me scared. I've always thought that if I hadn't been so weak in the beginning, maybe my Sophia would still be here with me. Then, after she was gone, I knew I had to toughen up. So I did, and I didn't stop, and over the years I let it rule me to the point where I felt myself slipping away. One more death by my hands, and … and I would become the very thing I hated."

Daryl listened and didn't say a word. He knew exactly how she felt because that part of Daryl that he held dear was gone now. Negan took that away from him. He wasn't sure he could ever get it back. At least Carol seemed to be making the effort not to fall into the nothingness. Daryl, however, was still scrambling to hold on to something as the nothingness swallowed him up.

"The others," she said. "Are they okay? Are they all right? Did … did anything … bad happen?" Her words came out in a rasping whisper, as though she was afraid to ask, but needed to know.

Daryl knew if he told her the truth, she would leave this place this instant and go out after the Saviors. She wouldn't stop until they were dead, and she knew it would mean her own death in the process. He felt like his own life was ruined, and he wouldn't let hers go that way.

"Daryl?" she asked when he didn't answer right away. Tears filled her eyes again.

"Everyone is good," he lied. He just couldn't destroy what little hope she had left. She laughed and cried at the same time, sniffled and wiped her eyes. "So, we gonna eat or what?" he said.

"Of course," she smiled. It was the first time in a long time that Daryl saw real joy on her face. She took the pot from the fire and brought it to the table, ladling some into a bowl. "Come on. Eat," she said to him. Daryl came to the table and they sat in silence eating their meal.

* * *

Daryl had been here for a while now. They finished their meal a long time ago, and were now sitting comfortably in the living room, talking and telling stories of their pasts. He kept thinking of her mention of Ed, her husband who had died in the beginning. Daryl never like the man. Merle had befriended the guy, and in turn they were introduced to the group he was with now, at least a few of them. Carol hadn't spoken of Ed in a very long time. She had told Daryl stories about their relationship in the past. It was around the time she was still dealing with her daughter's death, another time Carol had run off on her own. Daryl found her, though, and they spent a few days together, very much like they were now.

"What made you mention Ed?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know. I guess he's the only person I remember that compares to the feelings I've had about myself lately."

"He was horrible to you, wasn't he?"

"He had his moments," she said in a dark tone. "Especially when he'd been drinking. He'd come home drunk and angry. I'd make Sophia hide in her room, and let him take his aggression out on me. He had a wicked back hand."

"Did he … ever … force himself on you?" Daryl asked bravely. He knew they had similar backgrounds, coming from broken homes and abuse. If he couldn't talk to Aaron about this, maybe he could talk to Carol.

She could have told him it was none of his business. She could have gotten angry that he would dare to even ask, but Carol could always tell when Daryl wanted to know things because of his own experiences. She took a moment to answer, observing him as she paused. "Well," she said as she left the chair where she now sat, and joined Daryl on the couch. "Most of the time, when he was in a violent mood, he was too drunk to make his willy work. Ed liked to hit. Made him feel powerful. But," she paused. "Right after we were married there was one time when he … well … I didn't want to and he did. He was playful at first, flirting with me. I kept dodging his advances. At first it was harmless, but it escalated into something else, and he scared me and … he got his way. Of course, I was young at the time, and thought I was in love. I thought it was my fault, that I shouldn't have led him on, worked him into a frenzy. He was my husband so it couldn't be considered rape, right? Looking back on it now … that's exactly what it was. It was at that moment that I started to lose trust in him and he knew it." She finished her recollection and they sat in silence again.

Daryl knew she was wondering why he'd asked about something so personal. She knew he wouldn't have asked if there hadn't been some kind of importance in it. But Carol wasn't the type to pry. Maybe that's why he felt safe telling her about his past. Out of the blue, he told her about Jay. "I was raped when I was a teen by a family friend. His name was Jay." After that, he felt like a river that broke its banks and told her his whole story. Daryl had only ever told one person, and that was Aaron. Now Carol knew too, but there was a reason why he started from the beginning. He reached the end of his story, and she listened silently through the whole thing. When he was done, she was still silent because she could sense that there was more. He told her as much and stopped. Suddenly, the flood gates closed and he second guessed his decision to tell anyone about his ordeal at the Sanctuary.

"Why are you telling me about this now?" she asked. "It's something that happened to you a long time ago."

"What happened to you was a long time ago too," Daryl retaliated.

"You asked me first," she said with a raised brow. Without looking at him, she leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees, and spoke. "What happened at the Sanctuary, Daryl?" she inquired firmly.

"They . . ." He stopped, overthinking this whole mess. "They … tortured me."

"How?" she said softly, and her hand came to rest on the couch between them, an offering of comfort should he need it.

"I … I was . . ." This was the most difficult thing he had to do. But this was Carol, and she never judged him. "I was held captive, tortured, starved, beaten, and then . . . There was a guy. He had it out for me."

"How so?" she asked to get him to open up some more.

"He wanted something I refused to give him. And then they set me up, made me think someone was helping me escape. I should have known better; it was too good to be true. Turned out to be a trap. Negan was there … tried to convert me, but I wouldn't agree to his terms. In return, he had his men beat the shit out of me. I thought I'd die, and a part of me hoped I would. I so desperately wanted out of that fucking place. I think I kind of blacked out, but when I came to, I was back in my cell … and I wasn't alone. This … guy … he was there, talking a bunch of bullshit." Daryl stopped when he felt like he was back in the cell with Brady standing over him. It was too much, but he knew the only way to deal with this was to tell her.

Carol sat back on the couch. Her hand came to rest on Daryl's back, and he winced at her touch. "What did he do to you?" she asked softly. Daryl hung his head shaking it back and forth. When he didn't answer her, she took the conversation over for him. "It's all right. I think I get it."

"I couldn't fight back," Daryl said after a while of silence. "I tried. I really did, but it wasn't enough. He … he came for me when he knew I couldn't fend him off."

"Oh God, Daryl, I'm so sorry," she said with extreme sympathy. She watched him, but his hair curtained his face and she couldn't see him. "I understand what you're going through and it's horrible, I know."

"There was nothing I could do," Daryl went on. "They beat the fucking shit out of me. I've never felt so defenseless … so cowardly. I keep thinking, if only I'd tried harder. I should have bit him, scratched him … something."

"It's not your fault," she said sharply. "It wasn't when you were a kid, and it wasn't this time either."

"I'm a magnet for guys like this. I don't know why else it happens to me," he whimpered.

"That's not true and you know it." Carol moved her hand to his shoulder, careful of how she touched him. "What about Aaron? How is he taking it?"

"He doesn't know," Daryl whispered.

"You haven't talked to him about this?" she accused.

"I … I can't bring myself to tell him. He'll think I'm weak. He'll think I've given up."

"Daryl … he loves you more than anything else in this world. If there's one person who can see you through this it's him."

"You don't know how difficult it was to tell him about my childhood. What if he thinks I didn't try to stop it? After all, I lived it once already. I should have been able to prevent it happening again. He'll think I'm a fuck up. How could he still love me knowing someone else … that I was forced to … that another man had his way with me?"

"The worst thing you could do is to keep secrets from each other. That's a death sentence to any relationship. And I'd bet my life on it that Aaron would never abandon you, especially not now when you need him to help you heal." Daryl turned his head slightly, and Carol could see part of the side of his face. The bruises had yellowed, but she could still see where he was punched, and it hurt her heart to think of what he experienced while held captive. "He needs to know. This isn't something to keep inside or you'll eventually lose Aaron. Trust me, I know all about keeping secrets."

"I think he already suspects something anyway. I haven't exactly been receptive toward him since we reunited," Daryl admitted.

"That's how it begins, and before you know it, you'll be pushing him away. After a while, he's not going to come back. So you see, this is why you must talk to him about it. You know as well as I do, he's the best thing that's ever happened to you. Don't screw around with that. You don't want to end up alone in this forsaken world we call life."

Daryl met her eyes for the first time since coming to her home. "And here you are … alone."

"Well, I tried, but Ezekiel won't let me. So I'm not really alone, you know?"

Daryl reached out and put a hand on her knee in friendship. "Why don't you come home, Carol?"

Tears threatened to fall, but she held herself in check. "I can't. Not right now. I'm … figuring things out. I just need a little more time."

"Hmph," Daryl grunted disbelievingly.

"You've got things to consider right now. Don't worry about me. I'm safe out here," she said.

"You'd be safer back at the Kingdom," he tried to convince her, but it was like talking to a boulder. She wasn't budging. "Fine," he said, giving up. "Just so you know, there's a cache of weapons buried about fifty paces from the back door." She gave him a confused and curious look, but he shook his head. "Don't ask. Just know they're there if you need them.

Eventually, Daryl had to leave. He needed to get back to the Kingdom. He'd been gone too long, and Aaron would be worried. Part of him didn't want to face Aaron, but what Carol said was true. He couldn't keep this from him much longer or everything they worked so hard on would dissolve. Hell, after he told Aaron, if he decided to do that, it might still be over between them. Daryl wasn't sure how Aaron was going to react.

He stood and went to the door. "The sun will be setting in an hour or so. I better get back before dark."

Carol stood, too, and went to him. "Oh, okay." They faced each other, not sure what to say. Then Daryl awkwardly leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.

"Be careful out here on your own," he told her.

"You be careful too," she smiled sadly. Carol took a step toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She leaned her head on his chest and held him a moment.

Daryl wasn't sure how to react, but he eventually returned the hug. He didn't know when they would meet again. Carol wouldn't leave this place, and Daryl couldn't stay at the Kingdom, no matter what Rick might have wanted.

"Where will you go?" she asked, as though she read his thoughts.

"I don't know yet, but I can't stay here. Negan's gonna come looking for me," he answered.

"Will Aaron go with you?" she wondered.

Daryl shook his head. "He thinks he will, but–"

"Daryl," she said with sadness tinging her words.

"I need to keep him safe, and right now I'm a target. He's better off anywhere but with me."

"Running is not going to solve anything." Carol lifted her head to look at his face, but he was looking toward the door. "But I know how stubborn and pig headed you are," she complained.

"Guess we got that in common," he replied.

Carol released him and cupped the side of his face. "Talk to him," she whispered.

Daryl gave a nod and went to the door. He walked outside and down the steps before he turned to her. "Watch your back out here." He warned her, remembering Richard and his failed plan. Daryl went to the gate, opened it and went on his way, heading back to the Kingdom.

* * *

It was almost dark when Daryl entered the Kingdom. Another day gone by avoiding Aaron. He couldn't keep doing this. Carol was right. He was going to have to talk to him. How could he start that conversation? How would he tell Aaron that he was not the same man he was before that night in the woods, kneeling before a mad man with a bat? How would he explain the reasons why without making himself out to look like a failure?

He was heading to the housing building, but at the last moment, he stopped and looked up at the windows. Daryl didn't know which one was his and Aaron's room, but he knew it looked down upon the courtyard where he stood.

"I can't," he whispered to himself, finding that his confidence fled a long time ago. Surely Aaron wouldn't want him more broken now than when they first met, and Daryl was pretty damn fucked up back then. They'd been through this before. It had taken a while for Daryl to accept himself, and accept Aaron. The man had been nothing but patient with him, but a person could only take so much. Was this another hurdle they had to get over, or would Aaron toss him to the side? No one wanted damaged baggage, something to lug around that was no more than a nuisance.

Daryl talked himself out of going upstairs. Instead, he decided to wander around the Kingdom for a while, maybe find a quiet corner to hide. "Maybe I should just leave now," he reasoned with himself as he walked along the sidewalk that ran around the courtyard. He needed to clear his head, calm his mind so that he could come up with a bright plan.

He was walking past another building and saw a flicker of candlelight through one of the small rectangular windows. He remembered Ezekiel telling him about the place where Shiva, his tiger was kept. She was a magnificent creature. Daryl had never seen a real tiger. The place where he lived growing up wasn't anywhere near a zoo, not that his father would ever have taken him and his brother to such a place. Daryl thought she was beautiful and dangerous when he first saw her. He quietly made his way through the shadows until he was at the door. He opened it and found another room. This one held a large cage in the center, and inside was Shiva.

When he entered, the tiger rose from her sleeping position, eyes trained on Daryl, watching his every move. Had she not been in a cage, Daryl was sure he would have been killed by now. But she knew she could not get to him. Instead, she kept a steady eye on him, an intimidating glare that made him very nervous.

Daryl remembered something his brother Merle taught him as a kid. Animals sensed fear, and it made them uneasy. Keep yourself calm and the animal would relax also. He wondered if it worked on tigers too. "Only one way to find out," he muttered to himself. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Daryl came the rest of the way into the room with the caged tiger. He went to the bars and stood still. His hair covered his eyes, but he watched her from behind his stringy locks. The tiger slowly padded across her cage towards him. He couldn't help notice her massive paws, and how sharp her claws were. How Ezekiel was able to keep her tame was beyond his understanding. She stood only a couple feet from the bars and watched him with intensity. To make himself less threatening, Daryl got down on his knees. Eventually the tiger made her way towards him. And then something odd happened. Their eyes locked as they studied one another, and Daryl felt a sense of calm wash over him. Shiva touched his soul with her golden eyes, making him feel very vulnerable.

"You don't want to hurt me, do you?" he said to the tiger, and her eyes narrowed in cat-like style. A low rumble came from her throat. She was staying cautious.

"My guess is that you don't much like being in that cage either. I know the feeling. They only let you out when they need you. Otherwise, you're kept locked away."

Shiva's mouth opened, her pink tongue slipping out slightly. Then she made soft grunting sounds, as though she understood what Daryl had said. She came the rest of the way to the bars and sniffed him as best she could. Daryl daringly raised his hand, making a fist and offering it to her to smell. It worked with dogs, he thought. The tiger snorted several times, and then sat down. She seemed to accept Daryl's presence.

"You're a pretty girl," he complimented her. "I ain't never seen a tiger up close before." He sat down and crossed his legs, elbows on his knees as he observed her unique patterns and colors. "Beautiful creature," he whispered. Shiva started rubbing her face and cheek on the bars. "Got an itch you can't scratch?" He brought his hand to her and pet her through the bars. She stilled and allowed it. "Wow," Daryl said amazed. "I'm petting a tiger. Scratch that one off my bucket list."

Shiva laid down and made a sound similar to a cat purring. Whether or not that's what it was, Daryl wasn't sure, but she was calm and relaxed, happy for the attention. He rubbed harder, and she pushed her head against the bars. "Yeah, good girl," he cooed. It was a special private moment with this unpredictable beast. They'd come to an understanding, tolerating each other, happy for the company. It took Daryl's mind off of everything else, at least for a little while. Too soon, he heard someone approach and come into the room. He looked up to find Morgan watching the scene.

Morgan looked surprised by what he found. Daryl could imagine what it looked like, but he didn't stop petting the tiger. He waited to see what Morgan would say, whether he would warn him not to get so close. But Morgan held his composure and smiled kindly. "King Ezekiel would be impressed by your skills," he said.

"It's no skill. She just … trusts me for some fucking reason," Daryl answered. He didn't feel like listening to Morgan's bullshit, which usually always came up in any conversation with the man.

"Aaron's been looking for you. He's worried you're going to leave without him," Morgan informed him.

"Yeah … well … he knows my situation. He knows everyone would be safer if I wasn't here."

"He just wants to watch out for you," Morgan said.

Daryl was getting tired of Morgan muddling in his business. "You can tell him you found me. Now leave me alone."

Morgan wouldn't listen. He came further into the room. "Where will you go?" he asked. "Assuming you're going to leave the Kingdom."

"I don't know," Daryl answered. There was no use avoiding the conversation. Once Morgan got started, there was no shaking him. "I just need to be away from everyone when Negan comes looking for me."

"Going alone is a bad idea. You know this," Morgan advised.

"I was alone a long time before all this shit. I know how to survive." Daryl paused and looked up at Morgan through his long hair. "Carol seems to be doing all right on her own."

That caught the man off guard. He took a moment to think of what to say, but there wasn't any way to avoid it. "You saw her?"

Daryl nodded. "She's living in that abandoned house up the road. You knew this. Why'd you lie to everyone?"

"She asked me to, and if you've talked to her, then you know she has her reasons."

"She said you saved her, brought her to the Kingdom for help." Daryl looked down and nodded. "Thanks for watching out for her."

"Carol felt the same as you. She wanted to run away, do things on her own. I talked her out of it, convinced her to stay here, but not … here. You could do the same," Morgan suggested.

"What … and have Ezekiel hand delivering fruit and shit? No thanks. Three's a crowd."

"I didn't mean that you and Carol should–"

"I know what you meant," Daryl interrupted. "I'm not staying. Nothing you can say will change my mind. Carol wants to keep everyone safe by not being around. Well, so do I, but I just need to be a lot further away in case–"

As he spoke, Aaron came into the room, fear and worry sitting on his brow. "You're leaving?" he questioned. He'd been listening to the conversation. Daryl realized that he had come with Morgan to eavesdrop, but it must have become too much for him not to participate.

Morgan moved out of the way to let Aaron through. Then he turned to the door and left so that the two men could continue their conversation in private.

Daryl watched Aaron, felt his heart jump in his chest as it reached out for him. After everything, he still felt the same excitement for his lover. It didn't last, though. Dread poured in and smothered whatever hope he had left. "I have to go," he said.

"I don't think that's a good idea. You know the Saviors don't step foot inside the Kingdom. They can't find you," Aaron argued.

"It's only a matter of time. Negan will be looking for me. You think some shady deal Ezekiel has with him will keep him out?" Daryl shook his head. "I'm putting everyone here at risk. I can't do that. These are good people. I won't be responsible for their deaths." Daryl stood from the ground, but he wouldn't make eye contact with Aaron. He approached and tried to walk past, but Aaron grabbed his arm rather roughly.

"I can't let you go. I swore to you I'd never let you go again, and I mean to make good on that promise. If you have to leave, then I'm going with you," Aaron insisted.

"No, you're not," Daryl rejected, and he pulled his arm from Aaron's grip. Aaron moved and jumped in front of him so he couldn't leave. Daryl turned his head to the side.

"What's wrong, Daryl?" Aaron asked. "Ever since you've come back, something has been off. You won't talk to me. You avoid me day and night. You won't look at me. I can't imagine what you went through, but you're here now. I'm here. If you'd just tell me what–"

"There's nothing to tell. They locked me up, beat the shit out of me, starved me, tried to force me to join them, and then I got away. Fuck, Aaron. Why can't you just leave it alone?" Daryl said in a raised tone.

"I can't. I won't because I'm worried about you. And now I hear you're taking off by yourself. You'd really leave without telling me? Since when do you run away from me?" Aaron argued.

"I ain't running away. I'm trying to keep you safe. I escaped from the Sanctuary, from a man who would crush everyone in his path. If he finds me, you're the last person I want around. He'll kill you, Aaron. He won't hesitate to take that bat to your head. I've already got one death hanging over me. I can't go through that again. I just can't."

"Is that what this is about?" Aaron asked in a softer voice. "You feel responsible for what happened to Glenn."

"That's part of it," Daryl mumbled.

"Then what else is it? Talk to me. Let me help you sort things out. Let me be there for you. I love you so much, but I can't take the silence. I need you. I need to be with you. I can't lose you again," Aaron pleaded.

Daryl forced himself to look at Aaron. The pain on his face was too much. Daryl caused that, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Aaron. Caring hands cupped his face, and Aaron gazed into his eyes, asking for something in return. Daryl moved closer, and for the first time since they were alone briefly in the forest, he allowed them to hold each other. His arms naturally found their way around Aaron's waist, and he buried his face in the waiting shoulder. Aaron's hand cupped the back of his head, while the other surrounded his waist. Aaron pulled him in until their bodies were flush against one another. They just held each other for a while.

When Daryl pulled away, his eyes settled on Aaron's, and he realized that he couldn't leave without him. There was no life without Aaron beside him. "I don't want to be here anymore," Daryl told him. "I'm not doing anyone any good here. Ezekiel won't fight the Saviors. Rick wants me to try and convince him, but maybe that's the wrong thing to do. They're all safe for now. They have a deal with Negan, and it's worked for them so far. If someone gets word that I'm here, this place will burn and people will die."

"Then let's go. We don't have to stay. I was just doing what Rick wanted because of you. We can leave. I don't care as long as we're together," Aaron assured him.

"Go where?" Daryl wasn't sure there was anywhere they could go and be safe for even a short while.

"I don't know. Somewhere remote. Somewhere far from the chaos," Aaron rambled, and then it came to him. "Wait! The cabin! We can go there, hide out for a while, just you and me."

"I'm not so sure that's–"

"It's always been the place we went when we needed to regroup. It's far from here, far from the Saviors. I think we'll be safe there, especially now," Aaron smiled with enthusiasm.

Daryl wanted to go, but he was concerned about the others. "What if Rick needs us? He's depending on us to be there ready to fight."

"Look," Aaron said, taking Daryl's hands in his. "Everyone's trying to figure out our next move, but no one has stepped back to take a moment to breath, especially you. You've been through something traumatic. We all have. I'm not saying we need to disappear and never come back." He paused and smiled. "Unless you want that." He shook his head. "Of course not. We're not leaving the group. We're just getting our heads on straight, taking some one on one time for each other. We owe that to ourselves. Don't you think so?"

Aaron was right. They did need time together after everything that had happened over the past few weeks. To Daryl, it felt like it had been months, but it was nowhere near that long. Perhaps some quiet time at the cabin would do them good. It always worked for them in the past. "It'll probably take us a few days to get there."

Aaron squeezed Daryl's hands with delight. "I'll talk to Ezekiel, see if he'll let us take a vehicle that they don't use often."

"No," Daryl said quickly. "I don't want to be in any sort of debt to the Kingdom. We'll head out on foot and look for a car or something. I saw some on the way here."

Aaron nodded. "All right. That's fine. Whatever you want to do. We'll go, take some time to sort things out, and then when we're ready, we'll catch up to the others."

"First thing in the morning," Daryl added.

"Bright and early," Aaron said, closing the distance between them. "But promise me you'll stay the night … just to sleep … or whatever you're comfortable with. I just don't want to wake up alone again."

Daryl knew he hadn't been an easy person to deal with lately, but he could try for tonight. Aaron would let Daryl do whatever he felt he needed to do. He wouldn't be pushy or insistent. Even though Aaron had no idea what Daryl had been through, he would still respect their relationship. Maybe once they got to the cabin he could talk to Aaron … maybe. Only time would tell.

* * *

Surprisingly, Daryl slept sound for the first time since escaping the Sanctuary. Just as he predicted, Aaron was the perfect gentleman. They slept side by side and nothing more. Aaron contoured to Daryl a couple times in the middle of the night, but that was tolerable. It actually brought him comfort having Aaron curled up to him. That's when Daryl fell into a deep sleep.

Morning came, and they were up before sunrise. Packed and ready to go, they headed out of the gates of the Kingdom. Daryl and Aaron noticed Morgan watching them from across the courtyard. He didn't try to stop them. He knew there was no chance of that. But seeing Morgan got Aaron thinking and he was concerned about something.

"Hey, should we have told Morgan what we were doing, you know, so someone knows we're going off on our own for a few days?" Aaron asked.

"I thought about that too, but not Morgan. I got a better idea," Daryl said. He led Aaron to the house where Carol was living.

Daryl knocked softly so as not to concern her. From what she had told him, she was used to visitors. Ezekiel made a point to visit or send someone in his place to check on her, and make sure she had everything she needed.

"She really is here, isn't she?" Aaron asked. He had heard Daryl talking to Morgan last night, but he didn't know Carol was this close to the Kingdom.

Before Daryl could answer, the door opened and Carol gave a slight smile. "There's my boys."

"Carol," Aaron said with relief as he pushed past Daryl to get to her. They hugged tight. It had been a very long time since they saw each other. When Aaron thought about it, last he'd seen of her, she was still in Alexandria, standing on Tobin's front porch, smiling and talking to him. Everything seemed all right back then. Little did anyone know hell was about to spill into their lives.

"You look well," Carol said after looking Aaron over. "And I'm so happy to see the two of you together. Are you hungry? I've got eggs, more than I know what to do with actually."

"We can't stay long," Daryl chimed in. "I just thought you'd want to see Aaron before we head out."

"Where are you going?" she wondered.

"We're taking a few days for ourselves before we regroup with the others," Aaron answered.

"Good. That's really good. You two deserve some time together … alone," Carol said, genuinely happy for them.

"Yeah, we've got a little sanctuary where we used to go sometimes. It's far enough from here, I don't think it will be a problem. The only thing is it's kind of remote," Aaron said.

"That's what we wanted to tell you," Daryl continued. "If anyone comes looking for us, we'll be out of range for a few days. I don't want to tell you where, just in case any Saviors come around."

"Of course, I understand," she said. "How are you getting there?"

"We're walking until we find some transportation," Daryl told her.

"Daryl didn't want to ask any favors of Ezekiel. You know how he is." Aaron elbowed Daryl.

"You can't walk. From what you've said, it sounds like it's a long way from here," Carol said concerned.

"We'll be fine on our own," Daryl insisted.

"Don't be ridiculous. I think I can help you out. There's a car around the back of the house, about thirty yards or so into the woods. Ezekiel hid it here, in case I needed a quick escape. The keys are in the visor. It's got half a tank of gas. Hopefully it's enough to get you to wherever you're going."

"I didn't think the Kingdom had any cars except for a few trucks," Daryl said.

"They're very limited, which is why they go everywhere by horse, but aren't completely out of vehicles." She put her hand on Daryl's arm. "And you won't be in debt to the Kingdom. It's my car to do with as I please. Okay?" She knew how Daryl's mind worked.

"You sure about this?" Daryl inquired.

"Yes," Carol smiled sweetly. "Why don't you go bring it around? I'll pack up a few supplies for you to take with you on the road."

Daryl nodded and looked to Aaron before he left to retrieve the car. While he was gone, Carol took a moment to talk to Aaron. "He seems so much better now than he was yesterday."

"Yeah, we had time to talk and made amends. He's still not back to his old self, not completely. There's something he's not telling me. Did he mention anything to you about his time at the Sanctuary?"

He had, but Carol knew it wasn't her place to say anything. She shook her head. "Not much."

"That's where I'm at. I was hoping that spending a few days alone might help him mend, possibly open up to whatever happened to him."

"Daryl is going to do things his way, but I don't have to tell you that. Just be there for him, and if he decides to talk to you, then listen with a clear head and an open heart."

Aaron took Carol's advice, but he couldn't help think she knew more than she was leading on. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

Aaron and Carol went into her kitchen, and together they filled a couple bags with food and water for their trip. By the time they were done, the car was around front. Daryl came in through the door, excitement on his face at the prospect of leaving this part of the country and heading somewhere more familiar. Carol hugged Daryl goodbye, and whispered something to him. When Daryl stepped back, Aaron went to her and they hugged again.

"Don't be a stranger anymore," Aaron whispered into her ear.

"I'll try not to be," she said. "And remember to give Daryl the space he needs, but be there when he needs you."

"I will," Aaron answered and smiled to her.

"Come on. We're burning daylight," Daryl called from across the room.

Aaron kissed Carol on the cheek and squeezed her hands before he went to the front door carrying their loaded bags. Daryl took one from him and led the way to the car. Carol came out on her front porch to see them off. Both men hopped into the car, Daryl driving, and pulled out of the yard. They waved to her and she waved back, watching them until she couldn't see them anymore.

Aaron leaned his head back on the headrest and sighed. "Kind of like old times."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed. "Feels good. Feels right."

"It always feels right when we're together." Aaron reached across the car and squeezed Daryl's thigh. He did it without thinking, and regretted his decision when he felt Daryl tense from his touch. But just as soon as it happened, Daryl relaxed and reached down to take Aaron's hand in his.

"It does," Daryl agreed. "It always does."


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50 Cabin Sweet Cabin**

Daryl and Aaron traveled along the roads, always keeping an eye out for any threats, dead or alive. It was quite a ways to the cabin, but it wouldn't take as long as they first thought thanks to Carol. She'd given them the car Ezekiel parked behind her house, as well as two backpacks full of food and water. They were set, at least for a little while. Daryl was glad to be away from everyone and everywhere. His biggest fear was having the Saviors find him, and bring war down onto whatever place it was he was hiding. Going with Aaron to the cabin was a smart move, as far as he was concerned. Not only was it far from anywhere the Saviors had been seen, but he wasn't endangering any lives, except his own and Aaron's. They could take care of themselves, and if they had to move fast it would be easier with just the two of them.

Aaron figured they would reach the cabin late in the day, as long as the car didn't break down or run out of gas. With only half a tank, it was questionable whether they'd make it all the way or not. They would definitely be running on fumes before they made their destination. Daryl knew this too, and suggested that they try to find some gas along the way.

As it turned out, they came upon a scene, a moment frozen in time. It looked like about four or five cars had been in an accident. The luggage strapped to the roof of one of the cars told a familiar story, people fleeing from their homes right after things turned bad. In a moment of confusion, for whatever reason, they probably lost control of their car. That led to the accident, the mini pile-up. The cars were pretty well wrecked, so anyone coming upon this scene could see for themselves that the cars wouldn't be able to run.

Daryl kept his fingers and toes crossed as he and Aaron approached the sight. They pulled their car to the side and got out.

"No telling what happened here, but it was definitely an accident," Daryl said as he went to the wreckage.

"That's a good thing. Means we might find gas in their tanks," Aaron mentioned as he opened the back door of their car. He leaned in and came out with a small red gas can, and some hose. Apparently, whoever stashed the car at Carol's house had considered everything.

Daryl took the can and hose and tried the first car. Nothing. Aaron kept watch while Daryl checked the others. He hit payday on the last car and filled the small gas can by siphoning it. Aaron watched Daryl suck on the hose and spit out the gas that came up. He couldn't help laugh.

"What," Daryl said defensively.

"Never known you to spit before," Aaron said sheepishly. Then he put his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, couldn't help myself." It earned him a slight curl of the lips from Daryl, and the ice was broken.

"Is that so?" Daryl started to say, but both men switched to defense mode when they heard rustling in the nearby bushes.

They listened intently, but didn't hear the usual growl and hiss that the walkers made. Whoever or whatever was there was alive.

"Maybe it's an animal," Aaron said.

"Maybe not," Daryl warned. "Let's get out of here."

They hurried and jumped back in their car, shoving the filled gas can in the trunk. Daryl stomped on the pedal and they were gone.

After a while, when they felt like they weren't being followed, Daryl stopped and emptied the gas into the car's tank. When he was done, he came back to the car, leaning in through the passenger window. "How far do you think we are from any of our communities?"

Aaron had a map, which was in one of the backpacks that Carol gave them. He looked it over carefully and traced his finger over it. "Alexandria is closest to our current position."

Daryl worried that they might have come across some of the Saviors. They knew where Alexandria was, and they might be patrolling around the area looking for him. He'd been checking the rearview mirror constantly, but even on the long straight stretch of road they were on, there was no trace of movement behind them.

"What are you thinking?" Aaron asked with concern.

"We ditch the car long before we get to the cabin and walk the rest of the way. I don't think they're following us, but they might have seen us and the car."

"Good idea. Looks like we'll be there in an hour or so. Should be able to make it by foot before sundown," Aaron responded while looking at the map. He wasn't sure of the exact location of the cabin, but he knew where the lake was and that was close enough.

They went as far as they felt comfortable and pulled the car off the side of the road. Daryl jumped out and examined the surrounding area. The land sloped down and ended at a ravine. "We gotta destroy the car. Don't want anyone using it."

"Gotcha," Aaron agreed. He retrieved their bags. Then he helped Daryl push the car into the woods. It rolled away from them, moving faster and faster until it disappeared over the edge. They could hear metal crunching and trees cracking. If anyone came along, they would see the path the car took. They would find it at the bottom of the drop off too, but they wouldn't know which direction Daryl and Aaron went. Hopefully they would think Daryl was trying to make it to Alexandria. He knew Negan's men would check there, if they hadn't already. As long as they didn't find Daryl within the walls, he was sure they would be safe. Negan wouldn't kill people without a reason. He needed them to work for him. He might tightened the ropes around everyone's necks, but at least they'd be alive.

They walked along cautiously, keeping their eyes peeled in every direction. It was quiet, no walkers, no Saviors, at least they hoped not. The terrain started looking familiar. They were close. A little further along and they saw the cabin through the trees.

"Well, it's still here," Aaron said, excited to finally have a place to relax.

Daryl looked around them, and finding it quiet and undisturbed, he felt better about approaching. "Still looks the same."

"Last time we were here, someone broke in and stole the boat. Remember?" Aaron reminded him.

"I doubt he's been back. Let's just hope no one else has stopped by." Daryl made his way to the front with Aaron. The door was shut. Nothing looked out of place on the outside. He jimmied the lock and opened the door.

"Smells a little musty," Aaron said.

"Might be a leak in the roof somewhere." Daryl kept his sight on the inside of the house. It was quiet and still. He was sure it was empty, but you could never be too careful.

A sweep of the entire cabin proved him to be right. No one had been here since the last time Daryl and Aaron stayed. There were a few more cobwebs, a thicker layer of dust on everything, and it smelled like the inside of a damp hamper. It was a shame that this place was already deteriorating. It was a gorgeous home, expensive at one time, but now it was only a place to hunker down for a night or two. That's all Daryl and Aaron needed anyway.

"I found the leak," Aaron called out. He came from the master bedroom where he and Daryl had spent a few luxurious nights together learning about each other.

"Shit, not my room," Daryl complained.

Aaron laughed, remembering Daryl claiming the room for himself when they first found the place, before they became a couple. "Afraid so," Aaron said. "Water stains on the ceiling right above your side of the bed too. The mattress is ruined. Part of the plaster has fallen away and soiled the sheets. Looks like we won't be sleeping in there anymore."

"I bet a branch from one of the trees broke off and damaged the roof," Daryl said.

"We'll just have to stay in the guest room. The bed is still comfortable, though not as nice at the other one," Aaron pointed out.

"The fact that we have a bed is a luxury." Daryl remembered Aaron telling him about the Saviors taking all the mattresses from the houses in Alexandria, and then burning them.

"Ain't that the truth," Aaron huffed. "Well, let's see what all we have here." He took their bags into the kitchen to sort through the stuff Carol gave them. Daryl followed and watched him unpack the backpacks.

There was a lot of fruit, some cured meats and sausage, vegetables, bottles of water, canned goods, and a small loaf of bread. Then there was a plastic container with something in it. Aaron opened it and the smell of fresh peach cobbler wafted up past his nose. He closed his eyes and breathed deep.

"Mm, smell that. My favorite," Aaron sang.

"Yeah, Carol told me that they make just about anything into a cobbler at the Kingdom. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, it doesn't matter."

As Daryl spoke, Aaron pulled open a drawer and retrieved two forks, handing one to Daryl. "This won't last long. Better eat it first." He put his fork in and scooped out a big bite, stuffing it into his mouth. He moaned as he relished the flavor. "Oh God, this is so good. Try some," he encouraged.

Daryl was hungry too, but he was enjoying watching Aaron's reaction. With his head thrown back and neck exposed, Daryl's mind wandered to other things, memories of glorious nights spent with his lover. That had been before his capture though. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to recreate any of those moments.

"Go on. There's plenty here," Aaron said again. He watched Daryl scoop some out of the container and lift the fork to his lips. As Daryl chewed, he closed his eyes in pure bliss.

"Damn, you ain't kiddin'. This is really good." Daryl opened his eyes to find Aaron watching him, a slight burning for him tinging the corners of Aaron's eyes. That look made Daryl's heart speed up a little. Aaron was very handsome and always was, but it had been a while since Daryl really looked at him. He realized that he wanted him, wanted to get back to the way things used to be. But every time he felt it, a wall of warning shot up, blocking him from the thing he wanted most. He had to at least try to push past this. So he poked his fork into the scrumptious dessert and offered to feed it to Aaron. Aaron accepted it, and Daryl watched his mouth as it opened and then closed around the fork. He moaned and it sent little electric charges running along Daryl's spine. Once Aaron swallowed, Daryl leaned toward him and gently touched their lips. They kissed, lips on sticky lips, and it made Aaron giggle.

"You taste like peaches," Aaron said, breaking the silence.

"Do I? Well, come get you some more," Daryl said. He let Aaron move toward him, and this time their tongues touched. It felt really good to kiss Aaron again. Here at this place, they had always been able to be themselves, and this time was no different. Still, Daryl felt that same niggling in the back of his mind, the one that said they couldn't move forward until the truth came out. He was going to have to tell Aaron what happened to him before they could go much further.

Aaron felt Daryl tense as they kissed, and he was careful not to get to excited. He couldn't tell where any of this was moving. Daryl had new demons to deal with, one's that hadn't manifested themselves to the open world yet. It was for this reason that Aaron pulled away first. He didn't want to chase Daryl away so soon during their reunion. "Hey, why don't I open up a jar of soup? I found some in one of the bags," he said to change the subject.

"Yeah. Okay," Daryl returned, sounding slightly disappointed.

They ate well, and when they had their fill, Aaron and Daryl moved to the living room and sat on the couch. Daryl put his feet up on the coffee table, and Aaron snuggled into his side. They decided not to start a fire in the fireplace, afraid it might be too noticeable if someone was in the area. Instead, they lit some candles left from their last visit and kept the curtains and blinds tightly closed.

"So what's our next move?" Aaron asked to start a conversation.

"I don't know. I haven't given it much thought. What do you think?" Daryl wondered about Aaron opinion.

"I think we should reconnect with Rick somehow, but that would mean going to Alexandria."

Daryl shook his head. "That's the first place Negan will look, and the most obvious place they think I'll go to. I don't know."

"We could give it a couple days and go back to the Kingdom," Aaron said. "The Saviors don't know about us and them yet. And Carol's there … and Morgan."

"Maybe," Daryl answered. "I'm kind of worried about her. That guy, Richard, I thought he was cool, but I was wrong about him."

"Why? What did he do?" Aaron asked. If anyone made threats against Carol, he would do what needed to be done to protect her.

"Nothing … yet. I don't think he'll try anything. I threatened his life ten times over if anything happened to her. It's not that he's a bad guy. He's just trying to do what's best for his community, but using people as bait isn't smart." Daryl wrapped his arm tighter around Aaron, pulling him in closer to his side. "He wanted to set her up, make it look like she attacked the Saviors, incite a war by using her death to get Ezekiel to move his ass off his throne. Now that he knows how important Carol is to me, he won't do it. He's smart. He knows better than to start trouble with our group. He needs us."

"You said 'us'. Does this mean you're not going to run away?" Aaron asked, raising his head to look up into Daryl's face.

"I'm not running anymore," Daryl admitted.

"Good, because I'm ready to fight, and I want to fight at your side. Living in fear … that's not living. I want our lives back. I want to wake up every morning by your side and know that we're safe, and that we don't have to constantly be looking over our shoulders. Negan, the Saviors, that kind of threat needs to stop. They can live their own lives in their own community, whatever they want, but they can't feed off of the rest of us anymore."

"I want them all dead," Daryl groaned, and there was something dark and sinister in his tone.

Aaron sat up and watched Daryl's darkened eyes as they saw something that no one else could see. "They hurt you. They tried to break you. I can tell. They tried to get you to submit, but you fought. You always do."

But Daryl didn't fight the one time when it mattered most. "I'm not the same man you think I am," he said.

"You went through a terrible experience. You're entitled to–"

"You don't understand," Daryl said with anger. "I'm a changed man. Hell, I'm not even a man. I'm a coward. I should have fought harder, but I … I let it get to me. I … I did the one thing I said I'd never do. I gave up and gave in."

"If that were true, I don't think you'd be sitting here right now."

"I got lucky because someone helped me. I didn't do it on my own." Daryl found the courage to look Aaron in the eyes. "I lost the fight and the will. I was done. I was broken. I … I am broken. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why you're still here." His eyes misted over as he spoke. Daryl was so close to disclosing the truth. Part of him wanted it out, but a larger part feared what would happen once he confessed.

"Let me help you, Daryl. Tell me what happened. Let me carry some of the weight on my shoulders for a while. I want to do that for you. I will always do that for you if you'd just let me," Aaron encouraged.

Daryl couldn't, not now. He kept imagining what would happen once Aaron knew about the rape, and of how he didn't … couldn't stop it. Surely, Aaron would lose respect for him. No one wanted a coward. But if he couldn't tell him, maybe he could start healing by not resisting his need any longer. It was clear that Aaron wanted him, and he wanted Aaron too. At least in that way they could revisit the way it used to be. So, instead of answering Aaron, he leaned into him and took up his mouth with his own. Daryl kissed him hard and wantonly. Aaron responded by pushing his tongue past Daryl's lips. Their breaths hastened, warm air rushing over each other's skin. Daryl moved them so that he was now laying on top of Aaron, who was stretched out on his back on the couch. He could feel Aaron through his pants, hard and ready. His own cock was taking longer to come around, but when Aaron nipped at his neck and sucked his earlobe between his teeth, Daryl started responding. All this pent up desire made his cock ache as it filled and hardened.

"Are you sure about this?" Aaron asked, but he was panting as though it didn't matter if he was ready or not. This was happening.

"Yeah," Daryl said tersely. He sat back on his knees so that Aaron could move.

Aaron undid his pants and pushed them down far enough to release his straining cock. The hungry look in Daryl's eyes told him this was going to be fast and hard. It had been too long since the last time they were intimate. This time would be for release.

"Whatever you want to do, I'm yours," Aaron whispered.

Daryl crawled on top of Aaron and kissed him. His hand reached down and took Aaron's solid form in his hand. It was as familiar as his own, the heaviness, solid yet silky. Aaron's hips bucked as he pushed himself into Daryl's hand. His own cock strained against the inside of his pants, making it very uncomfortable. He wished to be free of his confines, but he would be committing to the moment, and he still had hard doubts. What was happening felt good, felt right, but not far from his current thoughts were memories ready to spark and dominate.

Aaron pulled away from Daryl's demanding kisses to catch his breath and beg for relief. "I want you now. I need you inside me. Please."

Daryl wanted that too. He reached for his belt, sliding it off, and unbuttoned his pants, but just when he thought all was well, the sound of the metal belt buckle hitting the floor set off those horrid memories. Suddenly, he heard Brady's voice.

" _Say his name. Call out to him like you do when he fucks you. I want to hear you say his name."_

Daryl closed his eyes and tried to fight off the sound of the man's voice in his head, but it was no use. He was already here. The thought of his time in the cell made him go limp. At the same time, Aaron reached down to help Daryl out of his pants. The feel of a man's hand pulling at his waistband had triggered him, and all he could think about was being raped by Brady. In a moment of confusion, Daryl grabbed Aaron's wrist harder than he should have, and made him wince and cry out in pain. Daryl was between worlds, and he hadn't realized how rough he was. All he knew was that he needed it to stop. "No! No more! Don't fucking touch me!" he cried.

"I'm not," Aaron said. "Daryl, stop. You're hurting me. Please, let go."

The sound of Aaron voice brought Daryl around. He looked down and saw the anguish on Aaron's face, saw his own hand wrapped around Aaron's wrist, and felt himself squeezing too hard. Immediately, he released Aaron, and looked down. Aaron's pants were slid down, exposing his cock. Daryl's pants were undone. He saw an image flash before his eyes, a memory of Brady in a similar position as he undressed him with rough hands and clutching fingers. Old wounds began to ache.

"Oh God," Daryl said, repeating several times. "I … I can't. I can't do this. I'm sorry. I … I shouldn't have … I hurt you. Oh God, I swore I'd never, but … I'm so sorry," he whimpered as he got up from the couch and paced across the room.

Aaron jumped up and situated himself. He went to Daryl and tried to wrap his arms around him. "No, it's all right. I'm not hurt."

Daryl shrugged from his touch. "No. Don't. Don't touch me. Don't come near me. Stay away."

Aaron couldn't help himself. All he wanted was to comfort Daryl, and the only way he knew how was to try and take him in his arms. "Daryl, it's me. It's Aaron. You're at the cabin, just the two of us. Let me help you."

"I said stay away!" Daryl shouted, and he shoved Aaron hard enough to push him to the floor. "It's all ruined. I'm ruined. You don't want me. I'll just mess everything up. I'm no good for you anymore."

"Don't say that," Aaron said as he got his bearings and stood from the floor. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Not now. Not ever again. Why do you still want me after all the shit I've put you through? I'm damaged. I have been from the beginning, and now, after what happened, I … I don't think I can come back from that."

"After what? Talk to me," Aaron demanded. "You have to tell me what happened if you want me to help you."

"Is that all I am to you? Just some charity case?" Daryl accused. "Does it make you feel better when you try to fix me? Maybe you're the problem." He was talking nonsense, but it was all he could do to get Aaron to leave him alone, and stop trying to make him confess.

Aaron was done with this. Daryl was fighting his own war, and he wasn't going to let Aaron in. Anger got the better of him. The pain in his wrist and in his tailbone sparked him to make a daring move. He charged Daryl and shoved him backwards until they both fell to the floor. Aaron landed on top of him, and pinned his wrists to the floor above his head. Daryl struggled, kicking and flailing to get free, but Aaron's adrenaline overpowered his partner. "You're going to tell me what happened. I'm tired of being in the dark trying to figure you out. Tell me what they did to you at the Sanctuary."

Daryl's vision faded in and out between Aaron and Brady. Being held down was sending his mind back to the cell. His side started to hurt again, where Brady had stabbed him. His stomach clenched as he felt bile churn and threaten to rise to his throat. He could smell the stench of the cell, a combination of his own waste and Brady's sweat. "Don't do this," Daryl begged, his strength fading as it had been in his prison. "Please, don't make me say it. Don't make me think of him."

"Who?" Aaron asked, not letting up on his grip. "Who hurt you?"

"He made me say your name, made me think of you, of us. And then he … he . . ." Tears stained Daryl's cheeks as he remembered.

Aaron softened his voice as he spoke. "Who is he? What did he do to you?"

After a few whimpering breaths, Daryl said his name. "Brady." The name tasted like poison on his tongue.

"Did he hurt you? Was he the one who tortured you?"

Daryl nodded. "He was one of them. He … he was the one who … he … Please don't make me say it. You'll hate me."

"Oh God, Daryl, I could never hate you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts, and right how I'm in agony seeing your mind tortured like this. But you have to tell me so I can understand and help you," Aaron said with compassion.

Daryl stopped struggling and went limp. All the life went out of him. He hit bottom … again. "After Negan challenged me, after his men beat me almost to death, I woke up in my cell. I wasn't alone. There was a man … someone I had a confrontation with before. Brady … he was one of Negan's men. He came to me to take out his revenge. I … I had no strength to fight him off. His hands … I felt them pull my pants down. Felt his knee in my back, pushing me face down into the concrete floor. I heard him unzip his pants, heard his belt clang to the floor, felt his knees against the inside of my thighs as he spread me. He stabbed me when I tried to resist. And then … he … he raped me. He fucked me, ripped me apart, told me what a piece of shit I was. He wanted to get inside my head. He knew your name, made me call out to you as he plowed me into the floor. And I said it. I thought of you, thought of how I'd let you down again. I knew I'd never be the same, knew we'd never be the same. That's what he wanted. It wasn't just rape. Brady wanted to make it so I would never forget, and he used my precious memories of you to do it."

The room was silent except for their rapid breathing. Aaron didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do. Realizing he had pinned Daryl in a similar position to his nightmare, he stood from the floor and away from Daryl. He looked down at the man he loved and imagined another man having his way. Confusion set in along with fear and anger. Daryl's stubbornness and strength was something Aaron never questioned, but now he found himself wavering. Why didn't he fight? Why didn't he push back and stop the attack?

"Don't look at me that way," Daryl said.

Aaron knew it was wrong to think these things. He turned his eyes from Daryl. "I'm sorry. It's just–"

"Yeah, I get it," Daryl said with venom tinging his words.

This was wrong. Aaron shouldn't doubt him. He was raped, forced to do something he would never willingly do. Aaron turned back to Daryl, this time seeing the pain in his eyes. The man was hurting, and he'd finally opened up to Aaron, only to see him react by pushing away. "God, I … I don't know what to say … or do … or–"

"Nothin'. You don't have to do nothin'," Daryl groaned as he stood and dusted himself off. "I tried to keep my distance from you. I was going to leave, go off by myself. You'd eventually move on and be better off without me in your life, but you insisted like you always do. And now, here we are. The truth is out. You know my story, and you look at me as though I'm riddled with the plague. I knew it would be like this."

"No," Aaron insisted, shaking his head. "It's not like that at all."

"Really? Because what I see in your eyes is what I ask myself every day," Daryl said. He looked back at the couch, and then to his belt on the floor. "I try to get close to you, but every time I do, I'm reminded of–"

Aaron wouldn't hear this anymore. He charged Daryl and took him up in his arms, forcing the man to let him hold him. Daryl struggled, but not hard enough. Aaron knew that what Daryl just said wasn't true. He might have tried to push Aaron away, but that's not what he really wanted, not deep down in his heart.

"Let go of me," Daryl said unconvincingly.

"Never," Aaron whispered with compassion. "Not until my heart stops beating and I take my last breath. But even then, I'll love you and long for you from beyond, and wait with eagerness for the day we meet again. You're a part of me, Daryl. There is no one in this entire universe who could ever take your place. I will always love you."

"You're a fool," Daryl berated him. He lifted his eyes to meet Aaron's. There was no resisting anymore. Aaron wasn't going to abandon him, and in return, Daryl wouldn't leave either. There was something so pure … so honest in those beautiful blue eyes. Daryl couldn't look away. Aaron's heart and soul was calling out to him. "We're in this for good then?"

Aaron managed a smile. "Until death do us part."

"Let's hope that's not anytime soon," Daryl added.

Eventually, they made their way to the guest room and laid down in the bed. At first, they laid side by side, both men facing the ceiling. But then, Daryl snaked his hand toward Aaron until their fingers connected. Aaron was reminded of the first time they slept in the same bed together. It was right in this very place too. Aaron turned onto his side, facing away from Daryl, and moved backward until they were contoured against one another.

"Is this okay?" Aaron asked.

"Better than okay," Daryl whispered in his ear. He draped his arm over Aaron's hip, and let the warmth of his lover's body blanket him. He had undying trust for this man, this very compassionate, beautiful man who only ever wanted to make Daryl happy. Well … he was … for the moment.

* * *

When Aaron woke up, he had no idea what time it was, whether it was morning or night. The curtains in the bedroom were pulled tight so no light could spill in. He wondered why he woke up, and then realized he was alone in the bed. Panic immediately set in. Where was Daryl?

He sat up and flung his legs over the edge. He was still dressed but for his socks. Aaron and Daryl slept in their clothes last night, just holding each other through the dark hours, nothing more. Daryl wasn't ready for anything more yet. Perhaps he second guessed himself and decided to leave. After all that they'd said to each other, maybe it wasn't enough. He knew Daryl's guilt was eating away at him, driving him insane. No matter what Aaron said, how he said it or how many times he reassured the man, Daryl was still skittish as a rabbit.

Wasting no time, Aaron got up out of bed and went to the living room. He could just make out a shape on the couch. When he got closer, he saw that it was Daryl. Aaron gave a sigh, part relief and part disappointment. "At least he tried," Aaron said to himself. He grabbed a blanket from the nearby chair and covered Daryl, hoping he wouldn't wake up yet.

Aaron went to the kitchen and opened their bags. There was a ripe juicy red apple he'd been eyeing since yesterday. He bit into it and closed his eyes. The Kingdom had a lot of good fruits and vegetables, stuff he'd missed for a while now. Alexandria was just starting their crops. It was still in its young growing stage, and it would take a while before they had results like the Kingdom. They also had a lot of food Alexandria didn't have. Aaron hoped that one day they could obtain some seeds from their crops and extend Alexandria's variety. Thoughts of the future gave him a small spark of hope, but first, there was this whole mess with Negan and the Saviors to contend with. What could any of them really do? Right now, they were stuck having to answer to a madman and his followers.

Followers, Aaron thought. Someone like Negan would only attract other psychopaths like himself. They were criminals, thugs who took advantage of the new disorder and turned it into their own utopia. And it was one of those lowlife bastards that attacked Daryl. The anger in Aaron's chest pained him. He wanted nothing more than to hunt down the shit that did this, hack off his dick and shove it down the man's throat. Daryl had been through so much in his life. He didn't deserve this.

It seemed that it was still dark outside, though Aaron was sure the sun would rise soon. He wasn't sure what the day would hold for them, so he decided to go ahead and jump in the shower. The water wouldn't be superheated, but it should still be fairly warm. They had discovered solar panels on the roof that heated the water by day. Unfortunately, without electricity, the water heater didn't work to keep the water warm at night. Still, it would keep it warm enough. He would make it quick so there would be warm water left for Daryl when he woke up. Aaron finished up his apple and went to take his shower.

Just as he thought, the water was warm. He hurried to undress and stepped inside through the glass doors. It felt good to have water raining down upon him. It had been a while since he had a real shower. He'd been cleaning up with water basins, using a wet cloth to wipe away the dirt and grime. There was a bar of soap, though it was cracked from not being used for such a long time. Soap didn't go bad, thank goodness. He used his hands to lather himself up and scrub soap in his hair, all the while paying attention to how much time he was using. As he rubbed his hands over his body, he noticed for the first time how his stomach caved in slightly. He could feel the bottom edge of his ribs. Food had been scarce in Alexandria, and since leaving, he hadn't eaten right, skipping meals here and there. Luckily, Carol packed plenty of protein type goodies. He'd need his strength if war came down upon them, and that seemed inevitable.

* * *

Daryl woke up, finding a blanket covering him. "Shit," he groaned. Aaron got up before him and found him sleeping on the couch. He didn't plan on sleeping there all night, only for an hour or so until his nightmare passed. He had the same dream, trapped on a dirty mattress, pinned down by a man whose face faded from one person to another, Brady and Jay. The only thing that never changed was the smile, that sickening toothy grin. He wondered if it was like that with all rapist.

He gave the previous night a thought. He'd failed again to take Aaron into his arms and rekindle what they had almost lost. They were close, so close, but Daryl was triggered by a sound, and suddenly he was back in that awful cell with his attacker. He thought it wouldn't have been such a difficult thing to get past if Brady hadn't brought Aaron into the picture. He used Daryl's memories of Aaron against him, and now, whenever he tried to get intimate, those same terrible visions clouded his mind. The words, spoken by Brady, sounded as though he was right in the room speaking. Daryl stared up at the dark ceiling and sighed, wondering if things would ever get right again.

In the silence, he heard water running, and knew Aaron was in the shower. He felt guilty for the way he'd treated his lover, and not just for tonight. It all started before they knew Negan existed, when he came home and Aaron wasn't there. He'd gone to Hilltop to see it for himself. Jesus led him there, and Daryl had always been extremely jealous of the man. It was such a childish thing to accuse Aaron of sleeping with another man. He knew Aaron would never do such a thing. And even after everything that happened, Aaron was still here, still trying. He always tried, never gave up hope. That's just how he was. That's what Daryl always wished for himself.

"I gotta stop wallowing in this misery," Daryl told himself. He sat up, anchoring his feet to the ground, and looked toward the bathroom. He allowed his mind to envision it, Aaron, naked in the shower, wet, soapy. He felt a twitch beneath the blanket and didn't resist. Again he thought of Aaron, hands sliding over chest, stomach and thighs. Daryl was coming to life with every glorious vision. He imagined Aaron turning to face the water, rinsing soap from his face and neck, giving Daryl an unobstructed view of a perfectly taut ass. Daryl was almost completely hard, confined by his clothes making it very uncomfortable.

"You can do this," he encouraged himself in the dark. "You have to do this if you want to get past everything and move on." He stood from the couch and unbuttoned his shirt as he slowly made his way toward the bathroom. The shirt fell from his shoulders, floating to the floor like a bird shedding his feathers. Daryl stopped and unzipped his pants, his cock finding immediate relief from the pressure of being confined within. He pushed his pants and underwear down, and stepped out of them, leaving them where they fell. He hesitated when his mind tried to conjure up the recent past, but he pushed it all away. He stood before the closed bathroom door, and laid a hand on the knob. It turned and he pushed the door open slowly. It wasn't as hot and steamy as their bathroom in Alexandria. The glass door to the shower wasn't misted over. He could see Aaron standing in the water, eyes closed, head tilted back as he rinsed soap from his short brown hair. Daryl caught him just in time, before he was finished. He stood and watched for a moment, waiting to see what Aaron's reaction would be. Aaron finished rinsing his hair and opened his eyes. They went directly to Daryl. Shock and surprise only lasted a slight moment before turning to awareness. Aaron's full pouty lips parted as he eyes scanned Daryl's naked form. Daryl was still weighing his options to stay where he was, move forward or leave the room as though he'd made a mistake. Then Aaron reached for the shower door and opened it. He watched Daryl, but when his invitation wasn't answered, Aaron turned back to the water to finish up.

"The water's only warm, not hot," Aaron called over his shoulder. "It might not last much longer."

Daryl had to will himself to step forward and enter the shower. It made it a little easier that Aaron wasn't making a big deal out of it.

Aaron paused before he spoke again. "I was trying to hurry so I didn't use it all up."

"Good thing I came along then," Daryl said from just outside the shower door.

Aaron glanced over his shoulder. "I'll be out in a second."

Daryl swallowed his fear and stepped inside. "That's alright. You don't have to leave on my account."

Aaron moved to the side to make room for Daryl, handing him the bar of soap. "Here. I'm done with it."

"Thanks," Daryl responded. He started lathering up his arms and chest, but this wasn't the only reason he braved the shower. "Can … can you do my back?" he asked, offering the soap to Aaron.

"Sure," Aaron smiled. He waited for Daryl to turn around and started soaping his back.

Aaron's hands were gentle and deliberate. He made small circles over his shoulder blades and traced a line down his back, stopping at his waist. Aaron was very careful not to hurt any of his wounds, especially where he'd been stabbed in the side. Daryl could feel Aaron's hands hesitate in certain places. Most of his bruises were almost gone, but some of the worst ones were still visible, faded to tan instead of black and blue like before. Aaron's strokes with the soap slowed as he observed him.

"They really did a number on you, didn't they?"

"Ain't nothin' I'm not used to. My old man did worse sometimes," Daryl replied trying to make light of it. He could feel Aaron's strokes slowing and knew he was wanting more than to wash Daryl, but he wouldn't make a move before Daryl did. Aaron had always been that way with him, at least when matters were sensitive.

Daryl made his decision to move forward and turned to face Aaron, but couldn't look him in the eyes. "I … uh … I'm sorry about last night, you know, finding me on the couch."

"Oh … huh … yeah, it's … it's fine," Aaron stammered nervously.

"You thought I was gone, didn't you?" Daryl could tell by his tone.

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind, but you're here."

"I tried to stay, but … I … I don't know," Daryl said, running out of excuses.

"I completely understand," Aaron soothed. "You need to take your time. I get it. I'm not upset."

If the conversation kept going this way, Daryl was going to back out of the shower. That's not why he was here. He was here because he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't ruined. "Do you … uh … you want me to . . ." Daryl took the soap from Aaron and gestured to his back.

"Sure … okay." Aaron turned around, offering his back to Daryl to wash.

Daryl copied the movements Aaron used on him, making slow circles over his back. He looked down and watched the bubbles fall, contouring along Aaron's backside and down his legs. He swallowed hard and let his hands move in the same direction. They traveled to Aaron's hips, slipping down the outside of his thighs, and came up to cup Aaron's ass. He kneaded his backside and looked up to see Aaron's reaction. Aaron must have felt his eyes on him because he answered.

"That feels nice," Aaron complimented.

"Feels nice to me too," Daryl returned. "Familiar."

Since Daryl made the offer, Aaron answered by pushing back against Daryl to let him know he was accepting his touch. They fit so perfectly together. How could he ever not want this? His hands traveled around Aaron's hips, splayed across his stomach. The head of Aaron's cock touched the back of his hand, and Daryl knew Aaron was more than ready for this, but was Daryl? He told himself this was something he had to do in order to push past his fears and nightmares, and took Aaron into his hand making slow long strokes. It was always nice in the shower. The water made their bodies slippery and easier to manipulate. Aaron didn't need much convincing, but Daryl . . .

He released Aaron and grasped his hips, twisting him to make him turn around. Aaron replied by doing exactly that. Instantly, their eyes locked on each other. "God, you're … you're beautiful," Daryl complimented. "Sometimes I wonder what you see in me."

Aaron knitted his brows and gazed at him with wonder. "I see a kind and loving soul, someone who does what's right, what's fair, who's brave enough to take the hits so that others don't have to. I see the man that I've always dreamed of falling in love with, even since I was just a boy. I see the man that I will love forever."

"Come here," Daryl told him, and Aaron leaned against him. Then Daryl cupped his hand behind Aaron's head and pulled him in for a kiss. It was slow and delicate, but soon became more demanding. Aaron's tongue pushed past Daryl's lips, tasting, caressing. Their cocks fell in line, side by side, and Daryl reached down, taking them both in one hand. He stroked them. It felt good. It felt right. So far the demons were keeping their distance. He'd been through this before, but the wounds were distant memories. He only hoped he could push on. Right now it was working.

Daryl's hands went to Aaron's shoulders, and he pushed in a downward motion gesturing to what he wanted next. Aaron looked at him questioningly. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Daryl said breathlessly, and he watched Aaron get onto his knees. At this point, Daryl's back rested against the tiled wall for support. He looked down, gazing at the top of Aaron's curly head. His fingers slid into the wet curls as he watched Aaron lick him. His cock reacted as it usually did, pulsing and jumping with anticipation. And then he was swallowed in heat. Aaron's tongue performed its magic, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive skin as he slid along inside Aaron's mouth. Daryl watched as he completely disappeared, and Aaron's lips tightened around him, suctioning only his painfully hard cock. He anchored himself to the wall for support, leaning his head back so that his body was fully stretched out. The water pelted his chest, running down his body, keeping him slicked for Aaron's manipulating mouth. He was so close, but he knew what would make him go insane. No, he thought. He couldn't do that yet, not where his body had been assaulted. This would have to be enough.

Aaron's hands grasped Daryl's ass, fingers digging into the taut flesh. Daryl tensed at first, but Aaron didn't go any further than that. It was fine. It actually felt good. It helped Daryl move closer to completion. Aaron was sliding him in and out of his mouth, moving faster as he judged Daryl's body and how close he was. Daryl was very close, and he let him know by grasping his curly head to steady him. He felt his balls draw up as he hips pushed forward. Aaron took him deep in his mouth and sucked hard. His tongue caressed the underside of his cock, manipulating him, edging him closer and closer until . . .

Daryl cried out his pleasure as his body went rigid and he spilled into Aaron's mouth. He could feel him swallowing, extending his orgasm. Aaron continued to milk him for everything he had up to the point that his body was becoming intensely sensitive. Aaron's timing was perfect, and he let Daryl go just before it became uncomfortable. Water pelted against his pulsing cock. It felt cold compared to the heat he just abandoned. Aaron stood and Daryl took him in his arms. He felt his lover begin to shiver, and realized that the water had run cold. Daryl forced himself to move from the wall, even though his body resisted. His legs were wobbly, but he managed to pull them both from the shower. He reached for a towel hanging on the nearby rack and wrapped it around Aaron. They kissed again, holding each other close.

Daryl whispered in Aaron's ear. "Thank you."

"For what?" Aaron asked.

"For being patient, for not giving up on me … for being you." Daryl buried his face in Aaron's shoulder. They stayed that way for a few moments of peaceful quiet until Daryl pulled Aaron along, directing him to the bedroom. It was still dark outside. There was no reason to start the day just yet. They slid beneath the covers and curled into each other to warm up. This was good, Daryl thought. This was how he would heal, and it was all because of Aaron.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51 The Distance Between**

Aaron laid on his side. Daryl was at his back. They held one another as they rested, not yet asleep but too tired to hold a conversation. It was enough just to have Daryl with him again. For the first time since they reunited, Daryl wasn't running off. He was making an effort now. Aaron had been worried. Daryl suffered trauma once again at the hands of an evil man. This time, he was forced to speak Aaron's name aloud as he was assaulted. It all made sense now. Aaron was afraid that Daryl was going to disappear again, run off in the middle of the night. He was frightened of himself, of the Saviors, of Negan finding him and hurting those who harbored him. Bringing him to the cabin was the best idea they'd had. Here, in this place, Aaron and Daryl had always found solitude.

The fact that Daryl came to him while Aaron was in the shower showed that Daryl was committed to healing and getting past his most recent wounds. He still had a way to go, but this was a good start. Daryl trusted Aaron. He felt safe here. It was truly their safe haven in the chaos of the world.

Aaron felt Daryl's hand come up his thigh and rest on his hip. His hand was rough and warm. His fingers twitched, unsure whether to do anything further or not. Aaron signaled his interest by pushing his backside into Daryl's body. They were naked beneath the sheets, though neither one had made a move since lying down.

Daryl allowed a groan to escape his lips, and Aaron new he was interested, but hesitant. It was Daryl's decision as to what he wanted. Aaron had already made it clear that he was open for anything at any time.

Daryl's hand moved from Aaron's hip to his stomach. He was dangerously close to Aaron's growing desire, and he pushed back again, needing to feel if Daryl's response was much like his own, but it wasn't yet. Aaron released a breathy sigh, and kept grinding against Daryl's body. Aaron reached back and put his hand on Daryl's backside. Daryl laid warm kisses along Aaron's neck and the back of his shoulders, sending electric charges scurrying along his spine. And then Aaron's cock was being stroked. Daryl had him in hand, moving up and down along his length, spreading the anticipated droplets with his thumb. Aaron could feel Daryl's cock start to come to attention against his ass. Daryl moved and his knee separated Aaron's thighs. The hand left his cock and moved to his balls, caressing, gently squeezing. When he was done fondling Aaron, Daryl's hand slithered over his hip the way it came and found its place between his legs. Aaron pushed his ass back again, this time arching his spine. It was taking Daryl longer to come about this time, but that was probably because of their adventures in the shower. Fingers teased Aaron's puckered entrance, and he could hardly wait to see where Daryl was allowing them to go.

Aaron looked over his shoulder, and Daryl reached to kiss him. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but that didn't matter. The only thing they cared about was being flesh to flesh, and as much of it as possible. After a long and sultry kiss. Aaron rolled onto his back. Daryl's body covered him, cocks side by side. Aaron's was pulsing and hot, but Daryl still had some catching up to do. Daryl began writhing. Aaron was panting with anticipation. And then, like the wind leaving the sails, Daryl collapsed against him. Aaron couldn't help notice how quickly Daryl began to deflate. He had never fully hardened.

"I'm sorry. I can't," he whispered with disappointment.

"Hey," Aaron said, bringing Daryl's attention to him. "It's all right. It's fine."

"No, it's not," Daryl said. His body had given up and a shadow of inefficacy passed over his countenance. "I thought I could do this. I thought I wanted this. I mean, I do want this, but–"

"You don't need to explain," Aaron said sympathetically. "Maybe we're moving too fast. We should slow things down."

Daryl rolled off of Aaron, and plopped onto the bed beside him with frustration. "Fuck," Daryl complained.

They laid in silence. Aaron moved onto his side and laid his arm across Daryl's chest. He could feel the tension in tightened muscles. Daryl wasn't relaxed.

"I remember being here with you, confessing my feelings toward you, trying to make you open up to me," Aaron said to start a conversation.

"Seems like ages ago," Daryl responded. "You told me what you saw in me that I couldn't see in myself."

"You were so reluctant," Aaron said.

"You were very persistent," Daryl reminisced. "But you saw right through me. You were always able to do that. Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself."

"I watched you starve your demons as you built your trust in me. I reveled in the joy I felt when you started to surrender to me," Aaron reminisced.

"I remember it too. I had hid from myself for so many years, and there you were, reading me like an open book. It was so … freeing. I never had that kind of unrestraint before. I was always on the defensive," Daryl added.

"I was on the opposite end of that defense once, your fist actually," Aaron laughed.

Daryl huffed a laugh too. "Yeah, I knocked you out. Can you blame me? You grabbed me and kissed me, caught me off guard."

"It wasn't that I surprised you with a kiss, but rather that you liked it."

Daryl thought and nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Your kiss, it … it awoke something in me, something I'd never felt, not like that. I knew right then that I wanted you."

"That's where I want you to be again," Aaron said, making his point. "I don't want to make love just because you think it will fix things. That's not how it works. Your mind has to be ready. Your body must be accepting. You need to be sure."

Daryl turned on his side and faced Aaron. His hand came up, fingers traveling along his jaw. Aaron turned his head toward Daryl and watched his eyes. They never left the trail his finger made, moving to his cheek, and then to his hair.

"We wasted so much time arguing … before all this happened," Daryl said.

"Remind me what it was about." Aaron couldn't recall how it started.

"It was after the Wolves and the wall falling. You wanted to keep recruiting and I didn't. Things just seemed to tumble out of control after that. I said some things … a lot of things I shouldn't have. I accused you of things that weren't true." Daryl looked down and away from Aaron. "I'd take it all back if I could. And now … it feels like I'm being punished. Here you are, back in my arms, in my bed, in my life, and … I don't feel worthy of any of it."

"Please don't say that. Whatever happened before has no importance to what we have now. You've got me. You always have and you always will. You're hurting and you need time to heal. I'll be by your side every step of the way," Aaron told him.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have to wait for me. It almost feels like I'll never be a hundred percent who I wish I was free to be. I've tried time and time again, and something always happens. Pete, Gerrard, Allison … Wolves, walkers … Negan, Saviors . . ." Daryl paused for the longest moment before he went on with his list. "Jay … and now … Brady. More ghosts to whisper shit in my ear, and I'm not sure yelling at them to leave me alone will work this time." Daryl allowed himself to gaze at Aaron once again. The fear in his lover's eyes was destroying his heart. "But I will try, just like you always tell me to do."

Aaron allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk up into a partial smile. "We've been through a lot. We've come upon so many hurdles, like when you got sick, and when I got amnesia. We have always made our way through. We'll get through this too. I'll be your anchor. I'll be that one steady object you need so that you don't feel like you're spinning out of control. You can trust in that … in me."

Daryl leaned toward him and kissed him gently. "Thank you."

Aaron snuggled into Daryl's chest, slid an arm around his middle, and draped a leg over his. They laid that way for the next thirty minutes or so, until a soft glow came in around the edge of the curtains. "Guess we better get up," Aaron said.

"I don't want to, but we probably should," Daryl agreed.

They dressed and had a bite to eat. They spent a few moments watching the sun rise over the trees on the opposite side of the lake, taking in the beauty of nature, and the serenity of being alone with one another. But one question still remained. What would they do next? Eventually, they started the discussion.

"Rick thinks were at the Kingdom. We could just go back," Aaron suggested.

"I don't know," Daryl said, unimpressed with the idea. "Ezekiel's not willing to help us out. I get the feeling nothing either one of us could say would convince him otherwise. Seems like a waste to be there."

"Well, we can't go to Alexandria," Aaron pointed out.

"That's the first place the Saviors will go. They've probably already been there. I just wonder how everyone is." Daryl glanced at Aaron. "You could go. Find out what's going on there."

Aaron shook his head. "No way. Wherever we go, we go there together. What about Hilltop?"

"Negan has a crew that goes there regularly. Besides, now that they know Alexandria and Hilltop were working together, they'll be a suspect to my whereabouts." Daryl was afraid to put Maggie or Sasha in harm's way. He knew they were hiding out there too. "We … could stay here," he said, leaning playfully against Aaron's shoulder.

Aaron glanced sideways at him. "We always said we wished we could move into the cabin." Aaron looked out across the lake. "What about the others? No one knows about this place. They won't know where we are if they need us."

"I guess we could get word to someone, check in from time to time," Daryl said.

"The point is to join in the fight we're eventually going to have against the Saviors," Aaron reminded him.

"Yeah, I know, and we will, but in the meantime . . ." Daryl put his hands on Aaron's hips and pulled him close until their bodies contoured against one another. Aaron turned in his arms and faced him. Daryl kissed him, his hands grabbing the fabric of Aaron's shirt. Aaron's arms snaked around his neck and the kiss deepened. He pushed his body against Daryl, hips grinding trying to rouse his lover. Things were getting heated, but then Daryl pushed back, separating himself from Aaron.

"Sorry," Aaron said, realizing that his gestures were making Daryl feel uncomfortable.

"It's okay," Daryl said in return.

Aaron wanted to be supportive, so maybe Daryl was right about staying at the cabin. "We'll stay," he finally agreed. "For a little while."

"All right," Daryl said with relief. "Since that's settled, I think I'm going to do some maintenance to the place."

"Like what?" Aaron asked. Daryl was ready to go back inside so he followed.

"That roof ain't gonna fix itself. I want my bedroom back."

"Your bedroom?"

"I called it a long time ago," Daryl jested.

"Is that so? Well, maybe you want to go ahead and move back into your bedroom. And good luck with that soggy, musty mattress."

"Shit," Daryl mumbled. "Then I guess I'll just have to bunk up with you."

"I can think of worse things," Aaron smiled. It felt good to kid around with him again, just like old times. They weren't completely back to normal, but it was a start, and a good one.

Daryl had gone out to the garage to look for tools and whatnot. He was hell bent on fixing the roof. Aaron didn't dissuade him from feeling useful. Besides, the roof really was in need of repair.

After their talk, Daryl seemed a bit more relaxed, but he was still maintaining a certain amount of distance from Aaron. It was understandable after what he'd been through at the Sanctuary. It was just going to take some time, and Aaron had the patience to wait. It was probably good that they came here and that they were staying for a while. They just needed to get away from everything, but Aaron couldn't help feeling like they were running away. Of all the suggestions, he thought the best choice was to go to Hilltop. They probably needed their help more than the other communities. Maybe he'd give Daryl a couple days here, and then suggest it again. In the meantime, they would just stay here, and make the most of this time together.

"Hey!" Daryl called from the mudroom. He was coming in from the garage. "Guess what I found."

"A case of beer?" Aaron guessed. It was only wishful thinking.

"There's a box of roofing tiles and tacks out there. I'll have no problem fixing the leak in the roof," Daryl said.

"Leaks," Aaron corrected. "There's more than the one in the master bedroom."

"Where?" Daryl asked.

"Come on, I'll show you." Aaron led Daryl through the house, pointing out places where there were water stains on the ceiling.

"I'll give it a thorough inspection and patch up any bad spots," Daryl informed.

Aaron wrapped his arms around Daryl's waist. "Looks like you missed your calling. You'd make a great handyman."

"It ain't nothing you couldn't do," Daryl returned.

"Could do, but wouldn't want to. I don't have the patience for fixer upper shit," Aaron said. "But that's why I've got you, isn't it?" He leaned in and kissed Daryl, who was caught off guard by his quick action. Daryl flinched slightly, hesitated, and then followed through with the kiss. He pulled away first, and came to look at Aaron apologetically.

"My fault," Aaron replied.

"No, it's all right," Daryl said, kissing him again, but this time it was quick.

Aaron watched Daryl go back out to the garage, but he stopped before leaving the house. "Keep an ear out for me. If you hear a loud thump, check to see if I've fallen off the roof."

"Okay, yeah," Aaron laughed. Daryl left, but Aaron's eyes remained on the doorway. It was an odd exchange they just shared. Daryl had never flinched from him before. He made a mental note to remember not to make too sudden a move toward Daryl. He wondered how long this would last, and how he could help Daryl get over his fears.

Aaron heard the sound of an extension ladder being hoisted up and knew Daryl was going up onto the roof. Well, if Daryl was going to work on the outside, Aaron would work on the inside. He decided to inspect the kitchen pantry, and look for any canned goods that went bad. The previous owner of the cabin had stocked it full, but it had been a long time since the beginning of things. By now, even canned food was starting to spoil. Soon, scavenging for food would be a thing of the past. He pulled out can after can, and found that there were quite a few that needed to be thrown away. It seemed like a waste, but there was nothing to do about it now.

"Why didn't I think of this place before?" Aaron said to himself when he thought about him and Rick scavenging the boathouse. He should have snuck out and come to the cabin to retrieve whatever goods were here. That cellar full of wine would have been a bonus to Negan. Then again, better not give him too good of a donation or he'd expect more from them the next time. No, Aaron thought. No one will ever know about this place. It was the only thing him and Daryl had that was completely theirs.

He heard hammering coming from above. Daryl was starting to make his repairs. Aaron hoped the noise wouldn't draw any walkers to the cabin. He continued with the kitchen until it was all cleaned up and in order. Then he unpacked their bags and added some of the items to the pantry. The rest, fruits and dried meats, he left on the counter for when Daryl came in to take a break. When he was done, he went to the living room and looked around. Next thing to tackle was the musty mattress in the master bedroom. He entered and looked up. More plaster had fallen away as Daryl worked above. There was nothing to do about that, but at least the roof wouldn't leak anymore. Aaron looked at the mattress and sighed. It was one of those expensive memory foam models. Another waste, he thought, especially since they didn't have any mattresses in Alexandria, no thanks to Negan. It became apparent how much Negan and the Saviors were embedded in their lives now. For Daryl, he was affected in a different way. Aaron got angry and disgusted when he thought about it. He wished he could have had a few minutes alone with the fucker that hurt Daryl.

The hammering stopped, and Aaron listened. He heard the crunching of someone walking around up there. At least he didn't fall off the roof. A few moments passed and the hammer started again. Meanwhile, Aaron tried to lift the mattress to drag it out of the house, but it was too heavy. He'd have to get Daryl to help him. He abandoned the bedroom in search of another project to do around the house, and began clean up where the roof had leaked in other areas. There was fallen plaster in a hallway. It was easy to take care of because it had come down where there were hardwood floors. Not much water came in and the floor was not ruined. Another place, close to the mudroom, the wall was water stained, but that couldn't be helped. After going through the entire house, it seemed the master bedroom was in the worst shape, mainly because of the leak onto the bed. It seemed that had been the main reason the house smelled sour when they first entered. It would have to go. Maybe if they opened the windows the smell would dissipate. Aaron would wait until Daryl was finished before he did that.

After about an hour, the hammering ceased. Aaron waited and listened, heard the backdoor open, and went to see what was going on. Daryl came in a sweaty mess, dirt on his arms from the roof tiles. His hair was damp from perspiration, and his shirt soaked through. He shucked the shirt from his body and tossed in onto a bench in the mudroom. His chest glistened with moisture. Aaron watched him from the living room, his steady gaze never leaving him. Daryl looked up and saw him.

"Hey," Daryl said casually. "How's things going in here?"

Aaron took a few steps toward him. "Fine. I cleaned up the pantry. Lost close to half of the canned goods. Spoiled, you know." He took a few more steps closer, and inhaled Daryl's masculine scent. It wasn't offensive. As a matter of fact, it sparked a wanton desire deep within him. "Looks like that mattress in the master is a total loss. I'll need you help to get it out of here. Maybe open some windows and air the place out."

"Not too bad then," Daryl responded.

"Yeah, not bad at all," Aaron purred, now standing before Daryl. He brought his hand up and touched Daryl's chest. Of all the men he had dated, none had ever been so rugged and raw.

"I'm a mess," Daryl said to him.

"I don't know. I kind of … like it," Aaron said seductively. He wrapped his hand behind Daryl's neck and drew him in for a kiss. Daryl didn't resist and allowed the kiss to deepen. It had been such a long time since they made love, and a blowjob wasn't enough anymore. All Aaron could think about was Daryl's sexy body covering him, his muscles tightened from hard labor, pushing him into the bed as he was taken hard and fast. Aaron tried to convey this through the kiss.

Daryl gently pushed him away, the resistance obvious but done kindly. "I must stink," he used as an excuse.

"Not really," Aaron replied. "It's kind of a turn on." He tried to wrap his arms around Daryl's waist, but was stopped.

"I still got a lot to do," Daryl said sounding regretful. "I want to get it finished before the day's done. I don't like all the noise I'm making. Maybe it'll draw something here."

Aaron got the message loud and clear. Daryl wasn't ready to engage in any kind of sexual behavior yet. Seems a blowjob was his limit for now. Aaron backed up to give him space. Last thing he wanted was for Daryl to feel smothered or cornered by him. He wanted to help, not drive his lover away. "Want me to set up watch?"

"No. I think we're okay for now." Daryl shifted almost as though he was nervous, leaned toward Aaron and gave him a quick kiss. "I'm going back up. Just came in for some water."

"There's some bottles on the counter," Aaron informed him, and he watched Daryl go to the kitchen, come out, and go toward the back door through the mudroom.

Aaron went and sat on the couch, his recent surge of lust cut short and headed off by an unresponsive lover. His mind told him to give it time, but his body was most disappointed. "Give it time," he repeated to himself. It only made him feel slightly better.

* * *

Daryl was back on the roof, but all he could think about was turning Aaron away. He was mad at Aaron for expecting him to be persuadable, but he was angrier with himself for not being more accepting. Right now, his excuse was acceptable, but later when he'd had more time to cope with things, what would he tell Aaron? Daryl felt as though he might never be able to be with him in a loving way again. It wasn't that he didn't want the man. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to make love to Aaron, to recreate some of those magical moments. And every time they started to get close he was triggered, and the smells and sounds of his time at the Sanctuary haunted him. He was afraid to whisper his lover's name, fearful of the voice he would hear, frightened that it wouldn't be his own. Damn that fucker who poisoned his mind. His only saving grace for now was the work that needed to be done around the house. This place made him feel better, made him forget all the bad stuff, at least for a little while. It was important to preserve it.

By the time he finished up with the roof, Aaron had food ready. He washed up and came into the kitchen, taking a seat at the large island. It smelled delicious. Daryl was starving. And it looked impressive.

"Meat and potatoes?" Daryl questioned.

"Canned meat," Aaron said. "Not scavenged anyway. This came from Carol. Apparently, the Kingdom cans their meat so it doesn't go to waste. Pretty sure this is pork. The potatoes came from there too. I just decided to boil them in a pot over the fire. Butter would be nice, but the gravy from the meat will have to suffice."

Aaron pushed a plate in front of Daryl and he dug in. It was actually very good, almost as good as Mom's cooking. Wait, his mom never cooked. "This is delicious," Daryl said with a mouthful.

He watched Aaron take a bite, and then another and another. Soon, both men were digging into their plates. They wouldn't stop until they had licked it clean.

"Are you done for the day?" Aaron wondered.

"Looks like I am. Sun's setting before too long."

"How about some wine?" Aaron offered.

"Sounds good," Daryl accepted.

"Great. I'll go down and get a bottle." Aaron started to walk away, but stopped.

"It's your turn to clean up," he reminded.

Daryl waved him away. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you."

Why was he being so cooperative? Daryl wondered to himself. It was making this more difficult. He almost wished Aaron would ignore him, then there wouldn't be this underlying feeling of guilt for pushing him away every time they started getting close. But no, Aaron was nice. He was kind and supportive. He was cooking and fetching the wine, and all Daryl could do was hold his hands out and keep him at a distance.

Aaron came back with a bottle and two glasses from the kitchen. He smiled across the room, closed lips and cautious not to make Daryl uncomfortable. "I only brought one. Our supply is starting to grow noticeably smaller." Aaron approached and handed Daryl the opened bottle. "I'll give you the honors." He set the glasses on the coffee table and took a seat in the chair across from the couch where Daryl sat. Daryl poured and pushed one of the glasses over to Aaron's side of the table. Both men drank deep, almost consuming the entire glass, and then set them on the table simultaneously. Daryl poured more and gazed across the table with narrowed eyes. Was Aaron trying to get him drunk? No, he didn't do sneaky stuff like that. Probably just trying to make sure they were both in a more relaxed mood. Then he must have felt the tension between them. Up until now, Daryl thought it was only himself.

"Have you given any more thought about what we should do next?" Aaron asked.

"No," Daryl said tersely. He thought they agreed to stay at the cabin for an undetermined amount of time.

"I mean, not to be in a rush or anything, but sooner or later we're going to have to join society again. There's a war brewing out there."

"Yeah, and if they find me, that means war starts a lot sooner," Daryl said.

"Well, I've been thinking about it, and Hilltop seems like the best place to go," Aaron stated.

"No," Daryl disagreed with a shake of his head. "Maggie's there. I won't put her in harm's way."

"She's hiding there too. So what's a couple more?"

"Because I don't trust that Gregory fellow. He'd just as soon turn us in than let us hide in his town," Daryl said to make his point.

"I don't think he'd do that. If he turned you in or Maggie or any one of us, Negan would bring down his punishment on the Hilltop"

"Gregory only cares about Gregory, not his people."

"Exactly, which is why I feel he's bluffing when he makes his threats. He's Hilltop's leader, first to get his head bashed in,' Aaron argued.

"He's a slimy bastard who I think would make a deal with the Sanctuary in order to turn us in and save his own ass."

"Where else can we go?" Aaron said, tone raised in frustration. "Hiding out here is keeping you safe for now, but we're needed elsewhere. The Kingdom already has soldiers. Hilltop's people are willing to fight, but they need training. They need us most. Right now, all they have it Maggie, Sasha and Paul, and you know Maggie can't be out there overexerting herself, not in her condition."

"Why's it got to be us?" Daryl argued in return. "Why's it always got to be us?"

"Because we're already out here. We can hide at Hilltop just the same as we're hiding here. I've seen the Saviors at Alexandria. They know every inch of that place. They know every face. You aren't safe there. Hilltop is least likely to harbor Alexandrians, especially with Gregory at the helm. They know he's a scared little pussy just as much as we know. So, we'll go there, figure out a plan for when the Saviors come by, find a good hiding place. We won't tell Gregory about it. He's mostly in the dark anyway. And we'll spend the rest of our time training his people, because God knows he's not going to do anything about it. He'd rather bow down and submit to Negan to keep the peace. You know that's only going to last so long. Eventually Hilltop will be absorbed by the Sanctuary. It will become another outpost just like all the rest … like that satellite station. I think that's Negan's long term plan, and soon he'll own the whole east coast." Aaron stood from his chair and looked at Daryl pleadingly. "Just give it some thought."

Daryl watched him walk to the kitchen and disappear. Deep down, he knew Aaron was right. Hilltop was the place they should go, but for the first time in a very long time, Daryl was frightened of what might happen. Not so much for him, he'd already been through shit, and he'd go through it again, but for everyone else. He didn't want the burden of carrying more guilt on his shoulders should someone die because of him again.

Aaron came out of the kitchen and headed for the bathroom. "You can go to Hilltop, but I'm staying here," Daryl called out, but Aaron didn't even look his way. The argument was through for now, but he knew Aaron wouldn't give in easily.

* * *

A few days passed, and both men busied themselves with maintenance on the cabin. Daryl had the roof repaired. Aaron organized the kitchen pantry. They cleaned up the inside, dusting, sweeping and picking up plaster than had fallen down from the ceiling in a couple rooms. The food Carol gave them was almost gone. Aaron was hoping by now they would be on their way, but Daryl was being stubborn, and he wouldn't leave the cabin. A few times, it passed his mind to leave Daryl here and go to Hilltop, but each time he found that his heart wouldn't let him go. It would destroy him if something happened to Daryl and he wasn't here. The cabin was secluded, and they hadn't even seen a walker close by, but that wasn't to say someone wouldn't stumble across the place, especially Saviors out looking for Daryl.

They hadn't talked much the last few days. They hadn't done much of anything together, each man in his own world as they kept busy. Aaron had hoped Daryl would be better by now, but he seemed to be slipping further away. Why, he wondered, especially after the intimacy they shared when they first arrived? Now, Daryl was cold and distant, although they slept in the same bed. Aaron kept telling himself that Daryl was making the effort. He was staying in the bedroom the entire night, though he would wake up a couple hours before Aaron. The downside was neither man made a move to so much as touch the other. Daryl had his reasons, of course, and Aaron was afraid to push him further away. Besides, Aaron didn't care so much about the physical part, though it was difficult not to show his affection in that way. He knew what horrors Daryl went through. It might be a long time before Daryl trusted himself to accept another man's body. What Aaron worried about was the distance Daryl built between them. They could hardly hold a conversation now. Daryl was a man of little words to begin with, but now the silence was deafening. Love conquered all, or so he was taught, and he would wait as long as it took to get their relationship back on track. Aaron was willing to make the effort, but was Daryl? Only time would tell.

They had spent another busy day fixing up the cabin, which was just about to the point where there was nothing else to do. Daryl told him he thought it would rain this evening. The sky was already turning grey as thick clouds moved in. Being under the cover of trees, this made it even darker. The temperature was dropping. It would be cold tonight, and with the rain it would be bone chilling. Before it got too late, Aaron headed around back to chop wood for the fireplace. They would need it tonight. After a while, Daryl came out of the back door and stood at the edge of the deck. Aaron stopped what he was doing to look up at him, finding him with his new crossbow and his knife.

"I'm going hunting. Maybe I can get us something for tonight," Daryl informed him.

It felt like that was the longest sentence Daryl had used in three days. "All right," Aaron replied. "Want me to come with you? Maybe we'll catch some rabbits." Aaron smiled and winked.

"Naw, that's okay. We need firewood more than we need food," Daryl responded, ignoring the reference to their early days. "I'll be back in a couple hours."

Aaron took another swing with the ax, embedding it in a large chunk of wood. He wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve, and put his hands on his hips. His smile disappeared as he gazed at Daryl. "Just be back before it gets dark," Aaron said with little emotion. He watched Daryl jog down the steps and disappear into the woods. He shook his head as he looked at the ground. This was getting impossible.

It was nearly dark by the time Daryl returned. Aaron was beginning to worry, but when Daryl walked in he didn't let his emotions show. There was a warm fire burning, and Aaron sat on the couch wearing a pair of lounge pants and an undershirt. He had a glass of wine sitting on the table, half gone, and he was reading a book he'd found in the office.

"Sun's almost down," Aaron said dryly.

"I said I'd be back by now," Daryl replied.

"Catch anything?"

"A couple squirrels." Daryl took a step closer to the couch and stopped. "You want me to throw them on the fire?"

Aaron shook his head. "No, not tonight."

Daryl's hand went to the back of his neck. "Sorry I didn't come back sooner. I was tracking and lost track of time. I know I said I'd bring food back for dinner–"

"Don't worry about it." Aaron glanced at Daryl, catching his eye. "I'm just glad you're back." He gave a slight smile.

"Well, I'm filthy. I'm taking a shower."

"Water's cold. With the lack of sun and the cooler temps today, it never heated," Aaron told him.

"That's all right." Daryl watched Aaron a moment and then left to take a shower.

Aaron wondered if Daryl was trying to send a signal. Last time they talked about the shower, Daryl joined him. This time, he decided not to make that move. If Daryl was ready, he would have to come to him first.

The fire was burning down to nothing by the time Aaron went to bed. He entered the bedroom, took off his shirt and crawled under the sheets. He stretched out on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He glanced over at Daryl, who was already sound asleep on his side, facing the opposite direction. Aaron wished he was turned toward him. He liked to watch Daryl as he slept. His face only ever looked peaceful then, and he knew the torment Daryl was in right now. The bedroom was chilly, and with the fire almost out, it would get quite cold throughout the night. At least they shared the bed and their warmth, Aaron thought as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

He was dreaming of a beach, but it was cold. Aaron wished he could stretch out in the sand or take a dip in the ocean, but the day was not kind to him. The wind howled and sent a shiver over his skin. And then came the rain, violent and loud. Aaron looked around and found a rundown shack with a metal roof. He ducked inside to get out of the weather. Someone was huddled in the corner. He called out to the person, and to his surprise, it was Eric. He hadn't thought of him in a very long time, and he felt guilty for it. Eric smiled the way he always did when he saw Aaron.

"Hey," he said.

"Eric? What are you doing here?" Aaron asked. He was confused.

"I know it's been months, but I wanted to see you … see how you were doing," Eric said with a kind smile.

"Okay … I guess," Aaron replied. He wrapped his arms around his chest, shivering from the cold.

"That doesn't sound convincing," Eric said. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Trouble doesn't even begin to explain it."

"Aw hon, why don't you come over here and tell me about it," Eric said with sympathy.

Aaron felt comfortable enough to tell Eric everything that happened since he died. However, he didn't tell him about Daryl's time at the Sanctuary, only that he'd been captured and eventually got away.

"I'm very sorry to hear about the loss. Glenn and Abraham were fine people. And Denise, I liked her. Spenser … I didn't know him that well, but he never bothered anyone. Olivia … poor Olivia, such a lamb that one." Eric backed up and sat down on an old lobster trap turned upright on its end. He crossed his legs and placed his folded hands upon his knee. "Now, tell me what's really bothering you. Is it Daryl again?"

"Daryl and I are fine. We've just hit a slight bump, nothing more," Aaron said, playing down the problems.

"Honey, there's nothing slight or smooth in anything that happens with you and Daryl. I really never understood your attraction, but as they say … water under the bridge. Seems to me you need to talk to someone about your concerns, and you've picked your dead boyfriend to unload on. Not up to speaking to the living?"

"It's not that. Well, kind of. We're out here alone right now. There's no one to talk to," Aaron said.

"What about Daryl? If the problem is with him don't you think he's the one you should be talking to?"

"He won't talk to me. That's my problem. He's shutting himself off to me. It's like he's reverting into the man I met when he first came to Alexandria. At one time, I was the only person he'd come to, but now he hardly addresses me about anything. I'm trying to give him his space. I know he went through some very troubled times during his incarceration. I've always been his anchor, but this time is different. I feel like I'm part of the problem so he avoids me in order to avoid any confrontation, even with himself. With every hour that goes by, we're drifting further apart. I just don't know what to do. I fear talking to him about it or he'll run again."

"Sounds like the Daryl I knew. Easier to run than to face the facts. I suppose you should let him know your feelings and take the chance. If he runs, maybe it wasn't meant to be," Eric advised. It was terrible advice.

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this. You always hated Daryl. Even in death, you'd rather see us fail than succeed," Aaron berated.

"Angry? What do I have to be angry about? Oh yes, he stole you from me … that smelly grease monkey." Eric stood quickly and turned to face the corner where Aaron originally found him.

"I never set out looking for another man. I hope you know that. My love for Daryl took me by surprise. It was something I couldn't ignore." As Aaron spoke, he moved closer to Eric until he laid a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Eric. I still feel the guilt sometimes. Maybe I should have handled it differently. Maybe I was too stern with you. I don't blame you if you still hate me, but I want you to know that I never forgot about the promise I made to you. In fact, I guess it was the beginning of my downward spiral with Daryl. I broke a promise to him in order to fulfill the one I made to you. You were right all along. There are other communities out there, and now we are trying to work with them and come together to fight the Saviors."

Eric slowly turned, tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips. "You did? You went against Daryl's wishes for me?"

"I did and I went with my friend Paul to see it with my own eyes. It's called Hilltop, and it's similar to Alexandria. It's behind walls and there's a great house and trailers. They have a blacksmith and livestock. It's amazing, but that's not all. There's another place called the Kingdom and it's bigger than Alexandria." Aaron was so excited to tell Eric about his recent finds.

Eric smiled and nodded as Aaron spoke. He waited for him to finish before he inquired. "Your friend … Paul?"

"Yes, Paul. Well, actually he goes by the name Jesus because of the uncanny resemblance, but–"

"Tell me more about this … Paul," Eric cooed.

Aaron seemed confused, but he answered. "Well, he's from Hilltop. He's their scavenger/recruiter, though I don't think he's recruited very many people. Their leader is a bit of an assh–"

"Is he cute?" Eric said excitedly.

Aaron thought a moment before answering. "He's good looking, I guess."

"Is he gay?"

"As a matter of fact he is. Actually, I'm not sure what this has to do with–"

"I'm just curious," Eric interrupted on the defensive. "I mean, I always thought there were other communities, but I never thought about other gay men living there. Is he taken?"

"In case you haven't noticed, you're dead," Aaron reminded him.

"Oh, I'm not asking for me. I'm asking for you."

"For me? Why would you say such a thing? You know I'm with Daryl," Aaron argued.

"Of course you are," Eric said condescendingly.

"He's with someone … another man … at the Hilltop."

Eric left the corner to stand in front of Aaron. He stood too close, and their bodies almost touched. He leaned slightly to the side so he could talk softly in Aaron's ear. "And I bet he has the hots for you."

"What?" Aaron shouted. "Where did you hear that?"

"I heard it through the grapevine," Eric said with an impish grin. "Aren't you the least bit curious about him? I mean, come on honey. A gay man nick named Jesus, a recruiter, good looking, strong, hopefully well-endowed."

"How dare you," Aaron said, finding that his feet were anchored to the place where he stood in the shack. He wanted to leave and face the whipping winds and stinging rain outside, but something wouldn't let him move.

"It's not like anything is happening at home with your white trash biker boyfriend. He's wrestling demons. Seems like he's always doing that while you wait on the sidelines for him to get his shit straight. Doesn't it get tiring? Don't you want to love someone who won't ever turn you away?" Eric's hand reached for Aaron's shoulder and slowly slid down his arm. "I was that to you, had you just loved me back." His hand left Aaron's arm and went to his waist. "It was good between us once, even if you were just pretending." Now Aaron felt Eric's hand rubbing the front of his crotch. It was warm and the motion made him swell whether he wanted to or not. His hardening cock fit perfectly in Eric's palm. As warm as it felt in the front, his back was freezing as it felt exposed to the cold raining beach. "Come on Aaron," Eric whispered wantonly. "If you were truly happy with Daryl, you wouldn't be dreaming about me."

Aaron felt movement and realized it was him. He was gyrating his hips, pushing himself into Eric's hand. "No, it's not right."

"Then why don't you stop. You're horny as shit and you've got no one to fuck. He's right here beside you, and you can't touch him," Eric teased menacingly. "Is it because someone already used and abused him? Now not even you can get him hard and turned on. You could have had it all with me, Aaron, but you chose this instead. Go on. Try to rouse him and see what happens."

Aaron couldn't stop his body from moving. It was as though Eric had him spellbound. As he struggled, his vision became blurry and his brain was fuzzy. Slowly, he came out of the dream, realizing that's all it was, and found himself spooned against Daryl's back. He was indeed painfully hard and pushed up against Daryl's backside. At that moment, Daryl came around from his slumber, moved a little, finding Aaron's hardened cocked pushing against him and shot out of the bed as though Aaron was a stranger after a one night stand he didn't remember.

The room was freezing, and Aaron's back was exposed to the cold. He must have huddled against Daryl for warmth, and as the dream took him, he became excited. He sat up immediately. "Oh God, no. Daryl … I-I wasn't . . ."

Daryl seemed confused and disturbed. He rushed around the room looking for his shirt and pants. "It's fine. Eh-it's okay. N-never mind."

"I swear I wasn't trying to … I was dreaming and … that sounds bad too. Daryl, please, come back. Let me–"

Daryl shook his head. "I'm up now anyway. I've got stuff to do today. I'll just get an early start." Without looking back at Aaron, Daryl left the room.

Aaron swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and his fingers digging into his hair. "Shit, shit, shit," he berated himself. He knew how fragile Daryl was right now. That fucking dream got to him. He realized he was only huddled against Daryl for warmth because the sheets slipped away, exposing his back to the chill in the room. It was a natural reaction to curl into his man's body. The dream and the actual warmth, finally snuggling against Daryl … it sparked something primal within him, and resulted with his dick poking into Daryl's back. "He must think I'm a total asshole. Maybe I am."

Eventually, Aaron got up and dressed. He came out of the bedroom, entered the empty living room and heard dishes moving in the kitchen. Thank goodness Daryl was still here. He took a deep breath and went to the kitchen. Daryl was finishing a glass of water, saw Aaron and immediately turned away from him.

"Daryl, I'm so sorry. I swear I wasn't trying anything," Aaron started.

"It's okay. I know how the male body works. Can't help it sometimes, especially in the morning," Daryl returned.

"I hope you know I would never–"

"Just drop it!" Daryl said angrily. Then his shoulders hunched forward. "Don't worry about it. I know you weren't."

Aaron remained silent and watched to see what Daryl would do. When he didn't speak or move, Aaron made an offer. "Want me to make us some breakfast?"

"Naw, I'm not hungry yet." Daryl looked towards the window over the sink. "Looks like it rained a lot. I'm going to see if we still have any leaks."

"Okay. Well, if you change your mind," Aaron said, but Daryl left midsentence. "Damnit," Aaron berated himself again. He stayed in the kitchen a while, waiting to see what Daryl would do now. He heard him walking around the house, going room to room. He was in the master bedroom when he heard an angry 'Fuck' come from there. Aaron left the kitchen to see what the trouble was.

A few days earlier, they removed the ruined mattress from the room, and cleaned up the plaster that fell from the ceiling. Aaron looked at the floor and saw more white flakes lying about, and the rug was wet, though not as wet as it has been before Daryl repaired the roof.

"Fucking, I thought I fixed that," Daryl said, disappointed with himself.

"I guess it was a good thing it rained. Were there any other leaks?" Aaron asked.

"No, just here. This was the worst damage. Tree branch fell and fucked it up. I've got more tiles. I'll just go up and lay more down. I'll double what I originally did. That should do it," Daryl said.

"Need help?"

"No, I got it." Daryl left the bedroom, again without looking at Aaron.

He heard Daryl in the garage banging things around, obviously pissed with either the roof or Aaron. What a terrible way to start the day. Aaron was still trying to figure out what had happened. It wasn't intentional, that's all he knew. Daryl freaked out, and now he was doing everything to avoid a conversation about it. Aaron couldn't really blame him. It was a bit awkward. "He must think I'm a real shit," Aaron told himself. He decided to start cleaning up the bedroom again, and picked up the fallen plaster. And what the hell was that dream about? Sexual tension had been a big part of it, but for shit's sake, did it have to be Eric? Why was his mind conjuring up him messy past?

The bedroom was about as clean as it was going to get. Aaron found some old moving blankets and laid them down on the carpet to help soak up the water. It wasn't the best idea, but he didn't want to soil up towels that would take extra work to get clean again. The cabin had no power. Washing clothes had to be done by hand, and towels were an important resource. He would allow the throws to soak up water and then take them outside and hang them over the deck railing to dry before putting them back in the garage. When Aaron was done with his work, he noticed that the hammering had stopped. He waited to hear Daryl coming down the ladder, but he didn't. He was just about to go out and check to make sure all was well, when there was a soft knock on the front door.

Caution made Aaron tense up immediately. No one came to the cabin. No one knew it was here except Aaron and Daryl. The fact that someone was knocking meant they knew there was someone inside. Aaron glanced around the cabin, temporarily forgetting where he had put his gun. He had a knife at his side, but he wanted his gun. Then he remembered it was in the drawer of a small table in the front hall. He rushed there, slid the drawer open and took his gun. The knock sounded again, this time a little louder.

"Aaron? Hey, Aaron. Are you in there?"

What the hell? It was Caleb at the door. But how the hell did he … what the hell was he doing all the way out here? Aaron kept the gun at his side and went to the door, cracking it open. Sure enough, there was Caleb, and he seemed out of breath.

"Caleb?"

"It's me. I … I know I shouldn't be here but–"

"How the hell did you find this place?" Aaron inquired. Caleb had only been here once, when he and Daryl first found him and rescued him from those asshole pricks. They had taken the boy back to Alexandria with them, but he had never been out here since.

"I kind of remembered the way, but it was difficult. Took me a while to find it." As Caleb spoke, his voice seemed shaky.

Aaron still hadn't opened the door all the way, and he spoke through the crack. "What is it? What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"Can you let me in, a-and I'll tell you about it? P-please?"

Something was definitely wrong. Aaron opened the door all the way to let him in. "My God, Caleb. What's happened? Is it Alexandr–" Before he could finish the sentence, a tear fell from Caleb's eye.

"I'm sorry, Aaron."

"Sorry? For what?" Aaron asked, but as he did, two men emerged from the bushes.

"You did good boy. Maybe we won't kill you," said a man with short brown hair and a beard, wearing blue jeans and a dark green flannel shirt. He had a gun aimed at Aaron and Caleb. So did the other man. They approached. "I'm Mac and this is Cole." Both men walked up and Mac put his gun to Aaron's head. "I believe you're harboring an escaped prisoner who belongs to Negan."

Cole, a man of similar height and build to Mac, put his gun to Aaron's head. He growled through clenched teeth. "Where's Daryl?"


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52 Back to the Hilltop**

Daryl had just finished fixing the roof. He nailed in the last tile and sat back on his heels. He kept thinking about his earlier exchange with Aaron. He felt stupid for the way he handled it, but he was caught off guard. He'd woken up with Aaron behind him, rubbed up against him with a hard on. He knew Aaron wouldn't try anything, but the man had been dreaming. Any other time, Daryl would have rolled over and encouraged Aaron out of his sleep for a morning quickie, but his mind wasn't right ever since escaping the Sanctuary. Brady had seen to it that Daryl couldn't think of Aaron in that way without visions of those events invading his brain. How the hell was he ever going to get past this? He thought their time in the shower and later in the bed meant he was over it, but that wasn't meant to be. Even then, his thoughts drifted back to the cell and Brady forcing him to say Aaron's name as he was raped. Daryl just couldn't separate the two. He couldn't make love to Aaron without seeing Brady, or hearing his voice. "I'm fucking ruined," Daryl whispered to himself. "But I don't want to lose Aaron." And lose him he certainly would if he didn't try to figure something out. He needed help, more help than Aaron could give him.

He'd been on the roof long enough. Aaron would start to wonder about him, so he made his way back to the ladder and climbed down. He stopped at the door that led in from the garage, pausing to get his thoughts together. Aaron would want to talk about what happened. He'd stumble over apology after apology. Daryl would tell him it was all right. The silence would creep back in between them. It couldn't keep going like this. Maybe they needed time apart until Daryl could deal with it. Aaron wasn't just a distraction. He was a reminder too. That's what Aaron wouldn't understand. He would try to convince Daryl that it was his demons, but it was more than that, and it was very disturbing. He just needed time, but would Aaron be willing to give him enough?

Daryl grabbed the door handle and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He turned the nob and stuck his head in, about to enter when he heard voices. "Holy shit," he whispered. Someone was here. His heart almost stopped as he listened.

* * *

"Where's Daryl?" asked one of the two men, Saviors from the Sanctuary out doing Negan's bidding.

Aaron glared at the man a moment, and then he looked at Caleb. "Get behind me," Aaron whispered.

"Nope, son, stay right where you are, and take your friends weapons while you're at it. Don't try anything or my buddy, Cole, here will shoot," said the man known as Mac.

Caleb watched the man and then turned to Aaron. He waited for permission, and Aaron gave a single nod, handing over his gun as the boy took the knife from his belt. When he had the weapons, he stepped back and faced Mac.

"Throw them down and back away," said Mac. Caleb did as he was told. Mac turned back to Aaron. "As you know, we're trying to locate your pal, Daryl. The boy here thought he might be out this way." Max looked around at the cabin. "Nice place you got here. Never would have found it if it wasn't for the boy. Had a hell of a time finding it, though. Almost took the kids ears off because I thought he was sending me on a wild goose chase."

"Caleb's only been here once. This is my home, and I don't like visitors." Aaron was trying to hide any information about this being a getaway or the fact that he was from Alexandria. He wasn't sure how much Caleb was forced to tell them.

"Yeah, whatever. Now, call your boyfriend out here before things get messy."

So, they knew about him and Daryl. They knew a lot more than Aaron wished they'd known. Caleb was at his side and brushed his arm.

"I'm sorry. They made me tell them what I knew," Caleb said with regret.

"It's all right. I'm just glad you're not hurt," Aaron replied.

"Not yet he isn't, but unless you bring Daryl out here, he won't be fine for long," said Cole speaking for the first time.

"I hate to disappoint you, but Daryl's not here," Aaron informed the men. "That's why I'm out here. I was looking for him. I thought he might turn up here, but I haven't seen him."

"I'm not buying it," Mac replied. "The kid said you two were tight, and if anyone knew where that prick was it'd be you. Negan wants his man back, and he ain't giving up until he has him."

Aaron silently prayed that Daryl was still on the roof, and that he heard the men down here talking. He took a deep breath and gestured to the inside of the cabin. "Come in and take a look." As far as he knew, no one had ever made that kind of offer to the Saviors. They usually came in without offer.

Mac looked skeptical, but Cole made the final decision and walked inside, pushing Aaron out of the way as he went. Mac started to pass, but he stopped in front of Aaron, and spoke softly. "If I find him, if I find any evidence that he's been here, I will gut that kid right in front of you, and then I'm going to split you up the front." Upon making his threats, Mac pulled a huge hunting knife from his belt, the kind he'd seen Daryl use to gut and clean a deer. He stared Aaron in the eyes and then went on his way, telling Aaron and Caleb to stay where they could see them.

Aaron pulled Caleb next to him on the front porch. He watched the two men begin ransacking the house as they looked for signs of Daryl. Aaron only hoped there were none. Since they weren't spending much time in each other's company, he didn't think there'd be much to go on. When the men were far enough from the door, Aaron whispered to Caleb.

"What happened? How'd these guys capture you?" he asked.

"Without you and Daryl around, I started going out hunting for food. Daryl taught me how to hunt and track, so I took it upon myself to do it. I went pretty far from home. These guys were out in the woods and caught me. I think Negan sent them to scout around the outskirts of town. They threatened me. There was nothing I could do. I'm sorry, Aaron. You know I'd never tell anyone about this place." Caleb was full of guilt and regret.

"It's okay, really. I'm just glad they didn't hurt you," Aaron said, thankful.

"I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find the cabin, and they'd kill me anyway. I tried my best to remember landmarks from the last time I was here. They were about to give up when I heard something. Sounded like hammering. It stopped shortly afterwards. I don't think they heard it. Was that you?" Caleb asked.

Aaron decided it was best not to tell Caleb that Daryl was here so these thugs wouldn't torture him for more information. He nodded after a brief pause. "Yeah, it was me. I was fixing the roof. Tree branch tore up some of the roofing tiles."

"So Daryl's really gone then?"

"I haven't seen him since he escaped," Aaron said. "He was at Hilltop when me, Rick and a few others arrived. He split before we left."

"And you came here?" Caleb inquired.

"I thought he might show up, and I wanted to be there for him. He went through some really rough shit at the Sanctuary. He's not himself." That last part was the complete truth.

"What do you think these guys are going to do?" Caleb asked with worry.

"I don't know," Aaron whispered. He turned his attention to the inside of the house, listening for any signs that they found Daryl.

Daryl could see his crossbow leaning against the wall across from the garage door. He desperately wanted to run over and grab it. He was about to make his move when he saw a man coming towards him. Daryl carefully closed the door and slinked back into the garage. He found an old canvas tarp and covered himself just as the door started to open. Then it paused.

"Woah," cried Mac. "What do we have here? Is this a crossbow?"

"Uh, yeah. That's mine. I … uh … I have it here so I can go out hunting," Aaron answered. He must have been close, Daryl thought.

"Hmm," Mac said skeptical of Aaron's answer. "You sure you're a hunter?"

"I gotta eat, don't I?" Aaron replied.

"True, true," Mac said nodding. "I also happen to know Daryl is quite the marksman. Dwight knows firsthand about him. And, of course, he's got the bow. You know … THE bow. Hangs on to that fucker like it's his dick." Mac stopped to laugh at his own statement. "Any who, I'll be taking that, and any other weapons you have here."

"You've got all my weapons," Aaron seethed.

"Good," Mac smiled. "Now you can show me to any other goods you happen to have stored away. Let's start with the kitchen." He gestured with the gun he was holding and waited for Aaron to lead the way when Cole came out of the spare bedroom.

"Hey, Mac. I think I got something here," Cole said. He looked serious and glared at Aaron from across the room before going back into the bedroom.

"Come on," Mac said to Aaron. "You too," he gestured to Caleb, who was still standing by the front door while Aaron went in to keep an eye on the two men.

Aaron walked into the bedroom and quickly scanned the area. It didn't look like there was anything here that would suggest Daryl was here too. The bed was unmade. His clothes from yesterday were in a pile in the corner. Daryl had slept in the same clothes for the past couple days. Cole came from around the other side of the bed where he'd been on his knees. "Found this under the bed." He held small a knife in his hand.

"I thought you said there weren't any more weapons," Mac said angrily.

"I … I guess I forgot about that one," Aaron stammered. In actuality, he didn't know where that knife came from. He'd never seen it before.

Cole approached Mac. "Look at it closer."

Mac took the knife and examined it. "This came from the Sanctuary. This is one of ours. A kid named Joey always carried it around with him." Mac paused and got in Aaron's face. "He's dead now, and guess who killed him?"

"This means he's here," Cole said, grabbing Caleb in a choke hold.

Aaron lunged towards them, but Mac grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. "You're gonna tell us what the fuck is going on here. Where is Daryl?"

"I told you, I don't know," Aaron pleaded. It felt like Mac was going to rip his arm from his shoulder. Unable to stand any longer, he was forced onto his knees. He could hear Caleb making choking noises. "Please, don't hurt the boy. He has nothing to do with any of this."

"Trust me, he's going to be the first one to get hurt unless you tell me where that dirt bag prick is at," Mac said between clenched teeth.

Aaron didn't say anything. He was searching his mind for some kind of a way out of this. Then he felt the coldness of metal against his temple as Mac held the gun to his head. "I … I-I sw-swear I don't know," Aaron said, keeping to his original story.

Mac nodded and sucked air through his nose. "All right. You leave me no choice." He looked at his partner, Cole. "Cut the kid's ear off."

Cole reached for his belt and came up with his knife. Caleb started struggling, but Cole's arm tightened around his neck. Aaron watched Caleb's eyes start to roll up into his head and his face turn a very deep shade of red. "Hold still boy, or it won't be a pretty cut." He brought the knife to Caleb's ear and started to slice. A trickle of dark red blood trailed down Caleb's neck. He started to scream, but it was muffled from lack of oxygen as he was being strangled.

"Hey! Assholes!" someone called from the doorway of the bedroom. It was Daryl.

The two men were caught off guard, shocked to see Daryl. Cole released his hold on Caleb. Mac turned the gun from Aaron and aimed it at Daryl. He got a shot off, but Daryl was quicker, disappearing around the corner before the bullet could hit him. Aaron wondered what was happening just as he saw a glint of silver fly through the bedroom. He looked just in time to see Daryl's hunting knife protruding from Cole's head. He dropped to the floor in a heap. Caleb backed away.

Mac saw what happened and pointed the gun at Aaron's head again. "You fucking prick! You killed him. Now I'm going to kill your man."

Aaron clenched his eyes shut and waited for the sound of the gun firing a bullet into his head. Before he knew what was happening, Mac cried out, lowering the gun. He released Aaron and turned around behind him. Caleb stood, clenching his throat as he tried to get more air into his lungs. In his hand was Daryl's hunting knife. He had sliced Mac's arm in an attempt to attack him. Unfortunately, it only made the man angrier.

"You little shit!" Mac yelled as he brought his gun up and aimed it at Caleb.

That's when Aaron saw Daryl's crossbow slung over Mac's back. Aaron lunged toward him and grabbed it, pulling both of them to the ground. In the scuffle, Aaron grabbed for the gun, but Mac saw his intentions first. They each wrestled for control, but Mac was winning. The barrel of the gun came up and a shot fired.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl shouted as he ran into the room.

Aaron didn't have much time to register what was happening, when suddenly Daryl was towering over them. He lifted his arms up, and that's when Aaron saw the crowbar. Daryl brought it down onto Mac's head. There was a loud crack, a familiar sound that brought back horrible memories of that night in the woods with the Saviors, and Glenn and Abraham losing their lives in a similar fashion.

Daryl brought the crowbar down again, and then a third time. Aaron rolled away and saw that the gun had come loose from Mac's hand. Instantly, he grabbed it, got to his knees and aimed it, but Mac was not moving. A pool of blood started to form, but Daryl kept going, pounding Mac's head again and again.

Aaron was shocked by what he was seeing. Never before had Daryl behaved in such a way. "Daryl, he's dead," Aaron told him, but it did no good. Daryl seemed not to hear him. "Daryl!" Aaron said again, and still no reaction. He glanced over to Caleb, the kid's eyes wide with horror. He actually backed away until his back was against the far wall. "Daryl, stop! That's enough! He's dead! Daryl!" Aaron shouted. He got to his feet and went to him, grabbing his arm the next time it went up. Daryl's strength almost dragged Aaron along with the crowbar.

"Get off me!" Daryl yelled.

"You have to stop. He's dead," Aaron pleaded, hanging on with all his might as Daryl still tried to use the weapon against their enemy. Eventually, Daryl's grip gave way and he let the crowbar fall to the ground at his feet. He stared down at the bloody unrecognizable mess.

"He … he tried to … to . . ." Daryl started to say as he finally looked at Aaron. His face was full of rage and hate until he began to come back to his senses. Then his sight fell to Aaron's shoulder. "You've been shot."

Aaron looked down and saw the blood. There had been so much excitement, so much happening all at once that he didn't know he'd been shot. The realization took effect, as did the pain, but it didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. There was already a tear in the material, and he ripped it more so he could see what damage was done. Luckily, it was only a flesh wound, but it might need stitches.

"I'm okay," Aaron said. "I'm okay."

"I … I-I thought you said you didn't know where Daryl was," Caleb said.

Aaron turned to him. "I know I did. I was trying to protect you. And I was hoping Daryl would know what to do," Aaron said, turning to Daryl now.

"I came in from the garage and heard voices," Daryl said.

Aaron was glad everyone was all right, but he couldn't forget what he saw with Daryl and the violent rage. Now wasn't the time to talk about it. Instead, he went to Caleb and grasped his shoulders. "Are you all right?" he asked as he observed his ear. There was a thin cut, but it would heal on its own.

"I think so. Still got my ear," Caleb returned.

"We need to get rid of these bodies," Daryl mentioned, already thinking ahead.

"We can bury them out in the woods," Aaron suggested.

Daryl shook his head. "No, we got to get them off the property. Someone's gonna know their missing, and they're gonna come looking for them. If they find them here, they'll come after you," he said to Aaron. "We need to clean this up too, dispose of any evidence that they were here."

"They only found this place because of me," Caleb reminded them. "And they didn't have time to tell anyone where they were going."

"See? This place is still safe," Aaron tried to convince Daryl.

"If they got a tracker, they'll find the cabin. It's better that they don't find their men here too. We just need to cover all our bases. I don't want to take any chances." Daryl wouldn't accept any other idea.

"Okay, what about the car we abandoned. We could dump the bodies down there with it," Aaron thought.

"Or the lake," Caleb said. "Wrap them in a blanket loaded with rocks and sink them."

"That's a good idea," Daryl said. "Okay, the closet down the hallway has blankets, and there's rocks and stones all around the lake. We'll take these two down the way. I don't want to dump them right off the dock. Then we'll put everything together and drop them in."

"I'll start cleaning this up," Aaron said, looking at all the blood. The good thing was this room had hardwood floors, otherwise he would have been pulling up carpet. Daryl really made a mess of things when he killed Mac.

They spent the next few hours following out the plan. Caleb went with Daryl to dispose of the bodies. When they came back, they helped Aaron finish up with the cleaning. By the time they were done, they were tired and hungry. Aaron handed out the rest of the food Carol sent with them, and then they started to talk about what to do next.

"We can't stay here any longer. This place has been compromised," Aaron pointed out. "It's … it doesn't feel the same anymore."

"Where do you suggest we go?" Daryl asked.

"I've given it some thought. I think we should go to Hilltop. That's where we can be most useful," Aaron suggested.

"And when the Saviors come to collect their shit, what then?" Daryl said, not completely convinced yet.

"There are places to hide. The Saviors came when I was there with Maggie and Sasha. Paul knows where they don't go, and he'll help us out."

"What about me?" Caleb asked.

"You have to go back to Alexandria," Daryl said, mind made up. "You said these guys didn't tell anyone what they were doing or where they were going. No one knows they took you, so when the Saviors come back and find you missing, it could be a problem."

"How are we going to get Caleb to Alexandria? We don't have transportation and it's a long way from here," Aaron said.

"Actually, they drove us here part of the way and ditched their car. We walked the rest of the way to the cabin," Caleb told them.

"You think you can find the car?" Daryl asked.

"I think so, but if any of the Saviors see the car, don't you think they'll become suspicious?" Caleb said.

"We'll cross that bridge if and when we get to it," Daryl told them. "We'll get close enough to Alexandria to drop you off at a safe distance. Then me and Aaron will go to Hilltop."

The plan was finalized. In the morning, they would head out. In the meantime, they took shifts keeping watch through the night and slept in the living room. Once morning arrived, they were on their way.

* * *

The next day went smoothly. Aaron and Daryl dropped Caleb off, and he walked the rest of the way to Alexandria. He had a message for Rick, letting him know where Aaron and Daryl would be. Now they were close to Hilltop, and decided once again to ditch the car. The Saviors would recognize it, so they drove it as far into a copse of trees as they could, covered it with fallen limps and leaves, and started their walk to Hilltop.

Up until now, Aaron hadn't mentioned anything about Daryl's over the top outburst with Mac. He felt he needed to address it, but Daryl wouldn't be happy about it. "So, what happened back there … with Mac … you know … when you killed him."

"What. I killed him, just like you said." Daryl seemed to want to avoid the conversation.

"You didn't just kill him. You went beyond what needed to be done."

"He was holding you at gunpoint, and then he shot you. How else was I supposed to react?" Daryl's ire was obvious.

Aaron spoke softly, not wanting to cause an issue. He was just trying to figure out what had happened and why. "I understand that, but you kept going. He was dead, but you kept hitting him until … until there was nothing left."

"I had a knife and a crowbar, and I threw my knife at the other guy. I had no other choice than to beat him to death. That's all that happened. It's not my fault if you're making more out of this that it really is," Daryl said angrily.

Aaron hesitated before asking his next question. "Was he … was Mac … did he have anything to do with what happened to you at the Sanctuary?"

Daryl's eyes narrowed on him and he stopped walking. "What, did he rape me? Is that what you're asking?"

"I don't know. I'm just trying to figure out what made you do what you did," Aaron said gently.

Daryl didn't answer at first. He started walking again, and he didn't wait to see if Aaron was coming or not. Aaron hurried to keep up with him and waited for an answer. Eventually, Daryl spoke. "No. He wasn't there. I've never seen him before. All I know is he's one of them, and I'll do whatever it takes to see every last one of them dead."

Aaron could tell there was more to the story, but Daryl wasn't talking. He just had to hope that eventually Daryl would feel comfortable enough to tell him the entire story. At least he shared the worst parts.

* * *

They finally made it to the Hilltop. The gates opened and Aaron and Daryl walked inside. Sasha was there to greet them. The first thing she noticed was the dried blood on Aaron's arm. He told her what happened, how they were attacked by two Saviors and they killed them. He didn't go into a lot of detail, and he left out the cabin and Caleb.

"That looks like it needs stitches," she said with concern. "Come on. I'll take you to see Dr. Carson. He can patch you up."

Aaron smiled and nodded, and then he looked to Daryl. Daryl waved him on. "Go on. I'll be around."

"You're not coming?" Aaron asked, hoping Daryl would keep him company while he got stitched up.

"Naw, I'm gonna have a look around, maybe drop in and see Maggie." He looked at Aaron, but then he turned and walked away. Aaron felt like Daryl just wanted to get away from him.

Sasha walked with Aaron, taking him to the infirmary. "Everything all right?"

"He's just kind of shaken up, especially being caught by the Saviors," Aaron answered.

"Are you sure you weren't followed? So far, the Saviors think Maggie died, and they don't know we're here. We need to keep it that way."

"We killed them and hid the bodies. Looks like they were out on their own. Eventually, someone's going to go looking for them, but I don't think they'll find them. There's just nowhere else for us to go. We can't go back to Alexandria, and Daryl doesn't want to stay at the Kingdom. I thought we could be most helpful here, since some of the people are willing to fight. They need some training, and we can provide that for them," Aaron explained to the best of his ability.

"It's a good idea then," Sasha smiled as she held the door open for Aaron. He walked inside and met Dr. Carson, who got to cleaning and stitching the wound.

While they were there, Jesus showed, hurrying into the infirmary. "I heard you and Daryl were here. What happened to you?"

"Gunshot. Just a flesh wound, but you know how everyone likes to make a bigger deal out of it than it really is."

Paul laughed. "What about the Kingdom? I thought you were staying there for a while."

"I thought the same thing, but … well … let's just say a certain someone can't stay in one place for too long."

"I can't say that I blame him," Paul said. He sat down on a stool next to the bed, and watched Dr. Carson finish up the job. "Where's Daryl now?"

"I don't know. Somewhere around here," Aaron said somberly. Paul caught on quickly, but he held his tongue.

Finally, Dr. Carson was finished. "There you go. Good as new," he smiled.

"Thanks, Doc," Aaron said. "How's Maggie? How's the baby?"

"Everything looks good. She just needs to continue to take it easy," the doctor said.

"Why? Is she breaking the rules?" Aaron asked facetiously.

"I've come to realize she's not the type of person who can sit still for long. She's gained quite the following though. Everyone wants to help out. She's been teaching some of us about gardening. Maggie's a real asset to our community, and I'm not the only one glad she's here." Doctor Carson glanced at Paul and gave a slight smile.

"She's proving to be a fine leader," Paul added.

"I take it Gregory isn't aware of this," Aaron said.

"Oh, I think he is. For the first time, he's got competition, and I think he's realizing it slowly." Paul stood from the stool where he sat and went to the door. "Come on, I'll show you what all we've been up to."

Aaron went with Paul, crossing the yard to an area where there were raised planters and small seedlings sprouting out of the rich dirt. "We're going to have nice crops next spring. We'll be a little more self-sufficient, and that's always a good thing."

"Let's hope that by then all of this will stay at Hilltop instead of half going to the Saviors," Aaron mentioned.

"So, how long are you and Daryl planning on staying?" Paul wondered.

"As long as we're welcomed. We want to help train people to fight. I don't know what's happening in Alexandria, and I only hope that the Kingdom will eventually join us. I'm sure Rick's got a plan, I just wish I knew what it was. But we need to be prepared if we're called upon."

Paul clapped Aaron on the shoulder. "We're glad to have you here." He looked around the yard as though trying to figure something out. "So listen, my trailer is pretty full with Maggie, Sasha and Enid staying there. I'd like to offer you and Daryl my room in the house, at least until better accommodations can be arranged."

"Oh … well … I really appreciate that, but … I'd feel like I'm putting you out." Aaron already felt slightly guilty for coming to Hilltop and adding to an already full community.

"It's fine. Really. Since that night with the car, the music and the shufflers, I've been taking night duty at the gate. My shift starts after dinner and goes until dawn. The room is empty at that time anyway."

"I don't know . . ." Aaron hesitated.

"Please, it's the least I can offer you." Paul looked at him with begging blue eyes.

Finally Aaron agreed. "All right, but only for a couple nights."

"Great," Paul smiled. "Come on. I'll show you what we've been setting up for weapon training." He led Aaron to another part of the property.

Aaron paused first, and looked around for Daryl, but he didn't see him anywhere. Maybe it was for the best. The tension between them lately was thick. It was good to be at the cabin, but he thought it might have been too closed in for Daryl right now. They needed to work through their latest complication, and it seemed being around Aaron was a big part of that.

The training area wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. They were using logs for target practice. It seemed knife throwing was their best quality. Guns were extremely limited. Paul explained how he came across a few while out scavenging. Ammo was the real problem. Guns weren't any good without it. However, because of the blacksmith, they had a hefty arsenal of knives and spears.

"You need more guns," Aaron stated, looking over the practice area.

"I was hoping Ezekiel and the Kingdom would answer the call to help fight. They have guns, some to spare also," Paul stated. He shook his head. "Right now, this is the best we got."

"We'll figure something out," Aaron assured him.

Paul grasped his shoulder. "Hey, how about a bite to eat. There's food ready in the mess hall."

"Great," Aaron answered with a smile. When they entered the yard again, he looked around for Daryl, but he was still missing. Part of him wanted to skip eating and look for him, but every time he tried to have a conversation, Daryl shied away. They needed some space right now. They could talk later.

* * *

Daryl stood to the side of Maggie's trailer and watched as Jesus and Aaron walked to the mess hall. He couldn't help notice how comfortable they were in each other's company. He also noticed, with a jealous twinge, how Paul touched Aaron's shoulder. Daryl hated feeling this way, but he couldn't help it, especially knowing how Paul pined for Aaron. The one thing he was sure about was his confidence that Aaron would never return any kind of affection toward Paul. Aaron saw him as a friend, and to be honest, Paul had not shown anything more than that either. It didn't help the jealous streak within Daryl's heart, however thin that streak was. The underlying emotion was still there, but why?

He left his hiding spot and went around to the back of the house where his friends were buried. Daryl wanted to pay his respects to Glenn and Abraham. Fresh flowers laid upon each grave. The marks in the dirt showed that Maggie and Sasha came here often. That was good, he thought. That meant they were dealing with it and grieving properly. It made him think of his brother, Merle. There wasn't time to grieve for him, and the way he died was horrible. Merle became the one thing he never wanted to become, a walker. Daryl knew his brother would rather have been buried in a frilly pink dress than to reanimate into one of the monsters. It was out of his hands, though. At least Daryl was there to end his brother once and for all, and see that he was eternally put to rest. But there was no grave, no place to visit, no time to grieve. Yes, he would have grieved for his brother, no matter their differences. He was family, and Daryl loved him. But life moved on, and here he was.

There was a different kind of love in Daryl's heart now. Aaron filled all those empty places that he had dealt with his whole life. However, he feared what would become of them if he kept pushing him away like he'd been doing lately. It wasn't Aaron's fault, of course. He had been very patient, but Daryl couldn't make him wait forever. The more he pushed Aaron away, the bigger the space that developed between them. He couldn't help feeling that coming to Hilltop had been a relief. At least now they could get far enough away from each other to breath. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, but being at the cabin felt like being forced to constantly face Aaron. Right now, Daryl could only handle being with him in small doses. It was awful. Daryl knew about triggers, and had dealt with them before, but he'd never had someone he cared about be the cause of his turmoil. This was exactly what Brady planned on happening when he forced Daryl to conjure up images of Aaron as well as saying his name aloud. He didn't just want to injure Daryl physically, but mentally and internally. Well, he succeeded, and now Daryl was one big mess. How was he going to get back to where he once was with Aaron, and feel comfortable in his presence or whispering his name? How was he ever going to share an intimacy with him and not remember the cell at the Sanctuary? There had to be a way to keep Aaron and not destroy everything they worked so hard to achieve.

The first week at the Hilltop passed by without incident. Maggie, Sasha, Aaron and Daryl took those willing to fight and started teaching them techniques. First, they showed them how to take down walkers, how to use them to their advantage when there were more than one, and how to get themselves out of a difficult situation if they were overwhelmed. Some people struggled to pick up techniques, but most caught on quickly. The Alexandrians focused on individual strengths and trained them in those areas to give everyone the best chance at survival. Now that the first week of training was out of the way, it was time to begin working on fighting the living. Without guns, it would be a difficult fight with the Saviors. They just had to hope Rick had a plan too.

They were half way through the second week, and everything was going well, at least with training. Daryl and Aaron spent more time with others or off by themselves than with each other. Jesus gave up his room in the house to them, but only Aaron slept there. At first they tried, and Daryl stayed the night for the first couple of evenings, but then he started feeling claustrophobic, and he would leave to patrol the yard or the gate. Aaron talked to him once, but Daryl waved him off, made up some lame excuse and walked away from the conversation. He'd always been good at doing that.

Daryl could feel Aaron's frustration, and if he didn't try something soon he might lose his man for good. An idea came to him, a way that he might be able to temporarily relieve the tension and keep Aaron from giving up on him altogether.

He was walking across the yard when he saw Aaron exit the house with Jesus. They were having a conversation, smiling and laughing together. Aaron spent more time with him lately. In a way, Daryl was glad. At least he had someone to talk to, especially since Daryl wasn't very talkative lately.

Aaron looked up and saw Daryl. His laughter died away, and he clapped a hand to Jesus' shoulder to say something. Jesus looked in Daryl's direction and nodded. Aaron left Jesus standing on the front steps of the house as he came across the yard toward Daryl. A hesitant wave from the Hilltop man felt more like an apology. Jesus knew how Daryl felt about him and how much he disliked his friendship with Aaron, even though Daryl was less threatening than he had been in the past.

"Hey," Aaron said as he approached. "You weren't at breakfast this morning."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." Daryl had at least made the effort to eat breakfast with Aaron every day, even if he wasn't staying with him through the night. "I, uh … I got talking with the guy on duty last night. He's from a town that was only a couple hours from where I grew up."

"Wow, really?" Aaron said. He was interested to hear more.

"He thought he might have known my brother, but it wasn't him. Anyway, we got talking and reminiscing about home. Turns out he's got a still and can score us some hooch."

"I don't know, Daryl. You really think it's a good idea to be getting trashed on that stuff when were always on edge about Saviors dropping by unexpectedly?" Aaron realized he said it a little harshly and bowed his head as he sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"I just thought it might help … loosen things up a bit. I know I've been a shitty boyfriend lately."

"No, I'm the one who owes you an apology. I said I'd give you space and time to heal. It's just … there's been a lot of space lately."

Daryl moved closer to Aaron until they were almost touching front to front. "I know and I wanted to try something to make it up to you."

This gained Aaron's attention, and he looked up and into Daryl's eyes. "You mean you think … you think you're ready?"

"I ain't making no promises, but–"

Aaron interrupted him with a kiss. It was the first one they'd shared since the cabin. Daryl almost forgot how good it felt to have their lips pressing together. Aaron pushed away first. "Sorry," he said shyly. "I know how you don't like to draw attention."

"So what do you say? You … me … a little hooch," Daryl said.

"I'm in," Aaron smiled. "I'll straighten up the room, maybe scrounge up a few extra pillows."

Daryl's face fell. He hadn't given this part of the plan much thought "That's Jesus' room. I don't feel comfortable … you know … someone else's room and all."

"I … think I know of a place where we can get away. There's an old watchtower on the roof, and I just happen to know the secret way up there. Very quiet. Very private. And it doesn't belong to anyone." Aaron reached for a strand of hair that had gotten caught in Daryl's eyelashes. He pushed it to the side and looked deep into Daryl's eyes. Then he let his fingers trail along his cheek before lowering it to his side. "Are you sure this time? Are you really sure?" Aaron seemed concerned with Daryl's sudden change of mind. "Because if you aren't, I don't want you to–"

Daryl reached up and put his hand around the back of Aaron's neck, drawing them both together until their foreheads rested against one another. "I promise I'm not going to back out of anything tonight."


End file.
